'^•o-^ \--WyA' ^.:--f>yy \:'^m'A 












o > 






>^"^. 



."^^^o, 











h*^ 
'•*. 



4 o 








<> •■., = ' <^ 






5.* *?^ A*' ^■Jlf^llSZ' '^ «. '' ••ft^^^* '"^^ <i^ * 












0^ c » ' • . "^O A*" . " • • '^^ 



r>^ - « . '^o -^ 



.V I. 







v..<> 



'^^•i^- 



THE 



PACIFIC COAST SCENIC TOUR 



FROM SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA TO ALASKA 

THE CANADIAN PACIFIC RAILWAY 

YELLOWSTONE PARK AND 

THE GRAND CANON 



BY 



HENRY T. FINCK 

Author of " Romantic Love and Personal Beauty," " Chopin and Other 
Musical Essays" 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 



NEW YORK 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1890 




COPYRIGHT, 1890, 
BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS. 



<*;\ 



TO MY FRIEND AND COLLEAGUE 

WENDELL PHILLIPS GARRISON 



PREFACE. 

Books on California and Alaska exist in abundance, 
if not superabundance ; but the intervening States of 
Oregon and Washington have been comparatively 
neglected in a way Avhich seems surprising when we 
consider the remarkable scenic and climatic attractions 
of those States, their industrial resources, and the great 
future which doubtless lies before them. The present 
volume is an attempt to give a general and impartial 
view of the whole Pacific Coast, from San Diego to 
Sitka. Covering such a vast territory, it cannot, of 
course, make any pretensions to exhaustiveness, but is 
simply an endeavor to reproduce the local color of each 
State, by describing a few typical and important locali- 
ties in each. I have naturally chosen the most favor- 
able specimens, as every author or other mortal does in 
showing samples of a thing with which he is in love. 
I am in love with the Pacific Coast, because after living 
on it eleven years, at various times, and twelve years 
on the Atlantic Coast, I have found the scenery so 
much grander and the climate so mucli more delightful 
and exhilarating on the western side of our continent 
than on the eastern ; and climate and scenery, in my 
opinion, make up fully one-half of human happiness. 
Scenery, indeed, requires some pesthetic culture for its 
appreciation, but climate affects all alike ; and Avhere 
the sky is habitually overcast with clouds, and the air 



Viii PREFACE. 

humid and sultry, the millionaire suffers from habitual 
depression of spirits just as much as the beggar. 

If the enthusiasm which pervades these pages should 
prove contagious to some of the readers, I do not fear 
that any of them will chide me hereafter for having 
induced them to emigrate to the West, — least of all, 
those who are in comfortable circumstances and wish 
to spend their last days amid bright and cheerful sur- 
roundings, and in a climate which favors longevity. It 
is my solemn determination to build a chateau some- 
where on the Pacific Coast for myself some day, — if I 
can manage the " comfortable circumstances." Tour- 
ists, however, I must add, may possibly take the Pacific 
Coast Scenic Tour described in this volume and come 
back more or less disa})pointed. This will probabl}^ be 
the case if they visit Southern California in July, the 
Yosemite in October, Oregon and Washington in Aug- 
ust, and Alaska before July or after September ; for 
they will then find the temperature uncomfortably high 
in Southern California, and the water-falls reduced to a 
minimum in the Yosemite ; while in Oregon and Wash- 
ington they will probably see nothing at all, on account 
of the dense smoke from forest fires ; and in Alaska 
the mountains will be obscured by mist and rain. But 
just as a prudent sight-seer does not visit Switzerland 
except between the middle of June and the middle of 
October, so we have a right to expect of him that he 
will 2)lan his trip to the Pacific Coast for the most favor- 
able season. This may seem difficult, on account of the 
great distance to be covered, and the variety of climatic 
conditions ; but as a matter of fact it is the easiest thing 
in the world. Indeed, this trip can be taken in such a 
way that each locality as described in succession in this 



PEEFACE. IX 

volume can be seen under the most favorable conditions 
possible. If an excursion agent bad planned the cli- 
mate of the Pacific Coast, he could not have made things 
more delightfully convenient for tourists. All you 
have to do is to follow spring nortliwards. Leave the 
East in the abominable winter months and spend a few 
months in Southern California, which from January to 
April is a paradise. If the Southern Pacific or Atlantic 
and Pacific railroads are taken, there will be no danger 
of a snow blockade, the temperature will be comfort- 
able, and the scenic attractions abundant. Early in 
May, when vegetation fades in Southern California, the 
Yosemite should be visited to see its water-falls at their 
best. San Francisco and Tahoe also are most attractive 
in May. Continuing northward, we find Oregon and 
Washington still in their spring garb in June, while the 
snow-peaks are not yet concealed by smoke. July and 
August may be devoted to the sea-coast and to Alaska, 
and in September the return trip may be made across 
the Canadian Pacific, with its three mountain chains 
and the National Park as its chief attractions ; or the 
Northern Pacific, which among its attractions includes 
the Columbia River scenery, the snow-peaks of Oregon 
and Washington, Lake Pend D'Oreille, and the Yel- 
lowstone National Park ; or the Union Pacific, which 
includes the Sierra Nevada, Lake Tahoe, the stupendous 
scenery of the Rio Grande, Salt Lake City, Denver, and 
the Rocky Mountains, — three routes between which it 
is difficult to make a choice. 

To complete the American Scenic Tour, we must of 
course take in one of the Great Lakes, Niagara Falls, 
the Thousand Islands and Rapids of the St. Lawrence, 
Lakes Champlain and George, and the Hudson River, — 



X PREFACE. 

scenes which have been too often described to be 
touched upon here. I have seen parts of four conti- 
nents, but am still looking for a tour equal to the one 
outlined in this volume with the addition just named. 
It includes the grandest water-falls, the largest hikes, 
the finest river scenery and geysers, the most stupen- 
dous glaciers, and some of the most superb snow-peaks 
and ranges in the whole world ; while the Yosemite 
and the Grand Cauon are absolutely unique and with- 
out rivals anywhere. 

Most of the illustrations in this volume are by cour- 
teous permission reproduced from photographs in the 
excellent collection of Messrs. Taber, San Francisco, 
Haynes, Yellowstone Park, B. C. Towne & ]\Iacalpin & 
Lamb, Portland, and I'ierce & Blanchard, Los Angeles. 

H. T. F. 

ToKio, Japan, August, 1890, 







THE PACIFIC SLOPE— FROM MEXICO TO ALASKA. 



CONTENTS. 



I. Los Angeles County. 

PAGE 

Across the Contiuent — A Storm in the Desert — A Contemptuous City 
— Progress and Prospects — The Land Boom — Climate and Crops — 
Ostrich-Farming — A Vineyard Terror — The Native Wines — Quail- 
Hunting 1 



n. Southern California in Winter. 

A Collapsed " Boom " — Los Angeles To-day — Prospects for Immigra- 
tion — Poultry and Cattle — Five Sources of Water for Irrigation — 
Windmills, and Tunnels under River-Beds 15 



III. The Great American Paradise. 

Value of Reservoirs — Winter in Southern California — Flowers and 
Sunshine — Where Raia means "Better Weather" — Dry Air and 
Sea-Breezes — Fogs and Frost — California for Invalids as compared 
with Italy, Spain, and Africa — Rural Cities of the Future — The 
Pacific Andalusia — Some Disadvantages — Gophers, Dust-Storms, 
Drought — Enemies of the Orange and Vine 25 



rv. The Home of the Orange. 

The German Colony at Anaheim — Rabhit-Huuting in the Cactus Fields 
— Cows and Oranges — The Best California Orange — Riverside and 
its Model Orchards — Orange-Picking — A Wonderful Avenue — 
Local Flavor in Oranges — An English Colony — How Prohibition 

prohibits — Scenes between Riverside and San Diego 36 

xi 



Xll CONTENTS. 

V. Over the Mexican Border. 

PAGB 

San Diego and Coronado Beach — An Ideal Climate — An Artificial 
Lake — How Towns are raised — The National Boundary — Don- 
keys versus Railroads — More Saloons than Houses — Limes versus 
Lemons 49 

VI. Santa Cataxina Island. 

From San Diego to Los Angeles — Along the Coast — A Romantic Spot 

— Lost in a Mustard Field — San Pedro — Floating Highlands — Sun 
and Ocean Baths in Winter — Avalou Village — The Luxury of Exist- 
ence — Flowers, Humming-Birds, and Poison Ivy — Rattlesnakes — 
Hunting Wild Goats — Indian Relics — Abalone Shells and their 
Hunters — Sport for Fishermen — A Submarine Garden — The Seals 

at Home 55 

Vn. Santa Barbara and the Yosemite. 

A Dam under a River-Bed — Beans and Culture — An Esthetic Town 

— Beautiful Gardens — Spanishtown and Chinatown — Mojave Desert 

— On the Way to the Yosemite — A Fine Stage Ride — Floral Won- 
ders — The Sierra Snow-Plant and Mariposa Lilies — Resemblance 
to Oregon Scenery — Discovery of the Valley — The Yosemite and 
Bridal Veil Falls — Rainbow Spray — El Capitan and Mirror Lake 

— Origin of the Valley — Yosemite as a Lake — Glacier Point and 
Other Excursions — The Big Trees in the Mariposa Grove 75 

Vlll. San Francisco and Chinatown. 

Mountainous Character of the Pacific Coast — The Hills of San Fran- 
cisco — Cable-Car Tobogganing — The Golden Gate and Cliff House 

— Scenes in the Chinese Quarter — John's Table Delicacies — Lunch 
in a Chinese Restaurant — An Honest Bookseller — Chinese Women 

— Opium Dens — Behind the Scenes in a Chinese Theatre — The 
Asiatic Trade — California Hotels, Restaurants, and Wines — Berke- 
ley and the University — The Climate of San Francisco 108 

IX. Lake Tahoe and Virginia City. 

Climatic Paradoxes in San Francisco — A Long Ferry-Boat — Snow- 
Sheds and Donner Lake — Truckee River — Logging and Fishing — 
Tahoe City — Round Trip on a Boat — A Lake amidst Snow Moun- 
tains — A Cinnamon Bear — Butterflies, Snow, and a Blvie Sky — 
Large Trout, and how to catch them — Sunsets reflected in the Lake 

— Other Color Phenomena — The Flume to Carson Valley — A Moun- 
tain Railway— Desolate Nevada Mountains — Mining under a City 

— Gold Hill 126 



CONTENTS. Xlll 

X. Mt. Shasta and Crater Lake. 

PAGE 

The Oregon and California Railroad — California's Grandest Mountain 

— Isolated Peaks of the Cascade Range — Volcanic Remnants — 
Sissou's — Indians at Home — Sources of the Sacramento — Effects 
of Rain — Oregon's Numerous Rivers — Fish and Crawfish — South- 
ern Oregon — A Mysterious Mountain Lake — The Oregon National 
Park— The Willamette Valley — Oregon Wheat and Fruit 149 

XL Portland and its Sea-Beaches. 

A Picturesque Situation — Five Snow-Peaks in Sight — Portland ver- 
sus Los Angeles — Clearings — Chinese Anecdotes — Propitiating the 
Gods — Appreciation of Female Beauty — Summer Resorts — Yaquina 
Bay and Long Beach — Bathing in the North Pacific — Catching 
Crabs at Low Tide — A Sad Accident — Clatsop Beach and Tilla- 
mook Head — An Exposed Lighthouse — In the Virgin Forest — 
Oregon Mosses, Ferns, and Trees — Flowers and Berries 162 

XII. ITp AND DOVPN THE COLUMBIA RiVER. 

An Ungrateful Republic — The Columbia compared with Other Rivers 

— Snow-Peaks — Salmon-Canneries — Astoria and the Mouth of the 
River — Cajie Horn and Rooster Rock — Water-Falls — The Cascade 

— Salmon-Wheels — In the Highlands — The Last of the Mohicans 

— Low and High Water — The Scenery and the Railroad — The 
"Place of the Winds" — "Swift Water" — A River turned on 
Edge 182 

XIII. Oregon and Washington Snovs^ Peaks. 

From Portland to Tacoma — Views of and from Mt. Hood — Ameri- 
can Scenery — Advantages of Isolation — Ascent of Mt. St. Helens — 
Masculine and Feminine Peaks — Tacoma and the Jungf rau — Ameri- 
can Names for American Mountains — Indian Names — A Hop Valley 

— Cascade Division of the Northern Pacific Railroad — Mt. Tacoma 

— Its Fourteen Glaciers and Five Rivers 203 

XIV. The American Mediterranean. 

A Strange Fact — History of Tacoma — Advantages of its Situation — 
Navigation — Forests and Saw-Mills — Splendors and Disadvantages 
of Forest Fires — Coal-Fields of Washington — Scenic Features of 
Puget Sound — Olympia — Seattle since the Fire — The Olympic 
Mountains — Port Townsend 217 



XIV CONTENTS. 

XV. A Week in Alaska. 

PAGE 

A Great Salt-Water River — The Genuine American Switzerland — 
Highest Snow-Mountain in the World — The Excursion Season — 
Islands and Forests — Indian Traits — Alaskan Villages — Glacier 
Bay— An Iceberg Factory 231 

XVI. Across the Canadian Pacific. 

Advantages of an Autumnal Trip — English Aspect of Victoria — Van- 
couver a "Boom Town" — The Frazer River and Canon — Eagle 
Pass — Reappearance of the Columbia River — Mountain-Side Forests 

— Comparison witli Switzerland — Construction of Snow-Sheds — 
Banff and the National Park — The Bow River — Devil's Head Lake 

— Sulphur Mountain — Winnipeg and Lake Superior 248 

XVII. Through Yellowstone Park. 

An Independent Journey on Horseback — Geysers and Paint-Pots — 
Waiting for an Eruption — Yellowstone Canon and Falls — The Lake 
and its Trout — A Tent Hotel — Mysterious Sounds 279 

XVIII. The Grand Canon of the Colorado. 

From Los Angeles to Peach Spring — Desert Wind — An Arizona Vil- 
lage — Indians — Descensus Averno — Extraordinary Mountain Ar- 
chitecture — Silence and Desolation — A Bewitched Creek — Up the 
Diamond Cation — The Grand Canon and the River — New Mexico 
and Kansas 294 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Mt. Hood Frontispiece 

facing page 
Ostrich Farm — Southern California 12 

Fruit Farm in Southern California 22 

Orange Grove — Southern California 42 

North Dome — Yosemite Valley 96 

Big Tree — Yosemite Valley 104 

Seal Rocks — San Francisco 110 

Lake Tahoe 132 

Mt. Shasta 152 

Crater Lake 158 

Castle Rock — Columbia River 196 

Great Dalles — Columbla River 202 

Sitka 244 

Fraser CaSon 254 

The Selkirk Glacier 262 

Canadian Pacific Hotel at Banff 268 

Devil's Head Lake 272 

Minerva Terrace — Yellowstone Park 282 

Falls of the Yellowstone 292 

The Grand Canon of the Colorado 296 



I. 

LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 

ACROSS THE CONTINENT A STORM IN THE DESERT A 

CONTEMPTUOUS CITY PROGRESS AND PROSPECTS THE 

LAND BOOM CLIMATE AND CROPS OSTRICH-FARMING 

A VINEYARD TERROR THE NATIVE WINES QUAIL- 
HUNTING. 

Twenty-three years ago, when the first transconti- 
nental railway was commenced, the possibility of not 
only its success, but of its very construction, was almost 
universally doubted, and the San Francisco bankers who 
advanced money for the enterprise had to do so secretly, 
in order not to create a panic among their depositors. 
To-day there are five transcontinental lines, or six, if we 
count the Oregon Short Line separately, and the tourist 
or invalid can pay his money and take his choice, ac- 
cording to the season, — the Canadian Pacific, Northern 
Pacific, or Union Pacific in summer; the Atlantic and 
Pacific or Southern Pacific in winter. The last-named 
is less interesting scenically than some of the Northern 
routes, but to invalids leaving the East in winter it pre- 
sents the advantage of plunging at once in inedias res^ 
so far as semi-tropical climate is concerned. 

Of the southern United States, this side of the Missis- 
sippi, one gets a rather unfavorable impression from the 
railway window, as the greater part of the distance from 

1 



2 LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 

Wasliington to New Orleans, and some hundred miles 
beyond, seems little else than one boundless swamp, 
with moss-covered trees, an occasional low mountain 
range, corn and cotton fields, and beggarly huts, as the 
only scenic features. Montgomery seems a sleepy coun- 
try village ; and although New Orleans has sights worth 
seeing, it requires courage and a taste for roughing it 
in order to get at them ; for the streets (naturally in- 
clined to be muddy, because the city lies below the level 
of the Mississippi) are so horribly paved that even a 
New Yorker must lift up Ids hands and thank Heaven 
that he does not live in such a cit}^ Without any exag- 
geration, a Swiss stage-road in the midst of the moun- 
tains is not so rough and jolting an affair as the street- 
car tracks in New Orleans ; and what the roads are 
beyond the paved streets may be inferred from the fact 
that in January I found it absolutely impossible to reach 
the City Park (where the Exposition was held some 
years ago) on foot, from the terminus of the street cars. 
Some of the gardens on the way were ornamented with 
orange-trees laden with ripe fruit, Init both trees and 
fruit presented a sad contrast to the luxuriance I beheld 
in Los Angeles three days later ; and equally great was 
the contrast between the moist, Avarm, enervating atmos- 
phere of the Louisiana marshes, and the dry, cool, moun- 
tain and ocean breezes of Southern California. 

If you leave New Orleans, say, on Wednesday noon, 
you will be at Los Angeles on Saturday evening before 
ten. A good supply of reading-matter is desirable, as 
there is little to see for a day or two, except cactus 
bushes, a few painted Indians, and bleak mountains, 
some of them across the Mexican border. At El Paso, 
which calls itself "the Paris of the Southwest," and 



LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 6 

claims twelve thousand inhabitants, the train stops long 
enoupfh to afford a chance to drive across the river into 
Mexican soil. The El Paso papers try hard to induce 
the passengers in quest of health to stay there, and have 
a very poor opinion of California. The Herald which I 
bought, editorially described the " recent terrific rain- 
storms " in that State, and found it difficult to decide 
which was a worse place for invalids, " Holland with 
her damp marshes, or the Golden State." The editor 
probably mixed up that State with Arizona; for on 
arriving in California we discovered there had not been 
a drop of rain for several weeks, while in Arizona we 
found the deserts, as far as the eye could reach, one 
vast plain of shining, semi-liquid mud, interspersed with 
large temporary lakes. The rain poured down in blind- 
ing torrents and with true tropical violence, forming 
channels several feet deep across the desert, and whirl- 
ing aside thirty-feet iron rails like straws. 

The spectacle of this rain-storm in the desert was so 
weird and sublime that we gladly in return accepted the 
fate of reaching Los Angeles twelve hours behind time ; 
for the train, owing to the numerous washouts and soft 
places, could only creep along, and beyond Tucson we 
had to wait five hours for daylight, as the engineer did 
not dare to proceed farther in the dark. Such storms 
and washouts are obviously frequent in this region, for 
ties and rails are scattered all along the road for emer- 
gencies. Nature, provoked by the " soft thing " which 
the Southern Pacific had in building this level road, 
seems to have taken this means of getting square with 
it. At Colton, California, the scenery becomes snow- 
mountainous and interesting, and remains so as far as 
Los Angeles. 



4 LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 

During my first visit to Southern California, in 1887, 
I was amused to notice the vast contempt with which 
the fifty thousand inhabitants of the city of Los Angeles 
looked down on the three hundred and fifty thousand 
benighted denizens of a certain northern village known 
as San Francisco, and on other places that have the 
effrontery to grow rapidly, and to claim special advan- 
tages of climate, situation, and commerce. The Los 
Angeles Herald informed its admiring readers that — 

"Pasadena and Los Angeles will be one city in a 
brief period, and form a continuous municipality from 
the Sierra Madre to the sea — an extent of thirty miles 
in length by at least six in width, with five hundred 
thousand people contained therein, and will be the cap- 
ital of the richest State in the Union. The claim of 
New York as the Empire State is already in dispute, 
but the dispute will soon be settled by the pre-eminence 
of South California." 

It must be admitted that much had happened to jus- 
tify this Los Angelic grandiloquence. Seventeen years 
ago the City of Angeles had only ten thousand inhabi- 
tants, no street cars, and only one railway. To-day it 
has at least sixty thousand inhabitants, electric street 
cars, and more than half-a-dozen railways, with about 
seventy-five daily trains. Orange-trees have increased 
in the county from twenty-five thousand to a million or 
more ; grape-vines from three millions to twenty mil- 
lions ; and other agricultural products in proportion. 

Its very disadvantages have proved advantages to 
Los Angeles. For instance, the fact that coal, like 
wood, is expensive, made the city the first in the 
country to adopt a general system of electric street-light- 
ing. It has seventeen masts one hundred and fifty feet 



LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 5 

high, fourteen masts sixty feet high, and hundreds of 
private lights. The electric railroad is also being rap- 
idly extended. The cars run at the rate of ten or 
twelve miles an hour, which can be increased to twenty 
outside the city limits. The road's capacity is said to 
be four times that of a horse road, and its cost only one- 
half, while there is no torturing of poor horses in the 
hot noonday sun. A ride or a walk along the streets of 
Los Angeles conveys the impression that the city is quite 
as large and as " metropolitan " as it claims to be ; the 
natural bustle and activity being increased by the winter 
visitors from the East. 

In every country the smaller cities are apt to take 
after the metropolis. Thus, Rouen constantly suggests 
Paris ; Linz, Vienna ; the English cities, London, etc. 
Similarly, Los Angeles suggests San Francisco in many 
details, — the appearance of the stores, hotels, Chinese 
shops, and the gardens, although the gardens have a 
more decided semi-tropical aspect, and there is a general 
appearance of more open-airness, if the word be permis- 
sible. The city is surrounded on all sides by high moun- 
tains and buried among groves and gardens. Orange, 
lemon, " pepper," and fig trees adorn the gardens every- 
where, side by side with many luxuriant shrubs and 
flowers, dwarfed apologies for which are often seen in 
Eastern gardens. In size and brilliancy of color these 
California flowers are incomparable, but the same causes 
which tend to give quinces, for instance, a less pro- 
nounced flavor than they have in the East, appear to 
impair the fragrance of some flowers. This fact has 
often been commented on, but I believe that too much 
emphasis has been placed on it. Repeated experiment 
has convinced me that the verbena and heliotrope, and 



b LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 

perhaps the geranium, have a less delicious fragrance in 
California than in New York, at least in October ; but 
the same is not true of roses and pinks and lilies ; and 
the countless varieties. of wild flowers that adorn the 
hill-sides in spring have a most intoxicating fragrance, 
wherewith they allure so many bees that honey can be 
sold at four cents a pound. 

The present ambition of the Los Angeles people is to 
surpass all the rest of the world in as many things as 
possible. In one thing certainly they were pre-emi- 
nent, a few years ago, — in the number of real-estate 
offices that decorated their town. Neither San Fran- 
cisco nor any mining town ever had so many saloons 
to the number of inhabitants as Los Angeles had 
of these land offices ; and the day after my arrival 
I heard a mother scolding her baby for putting a hand- 
ful of dirt in its mouth — doubtless because she thought 
real estate was too valuable to be thus wasted in luxu- 
rious living. Almost every landowner, whether he had 
a sign over his door or not, was willing to part with 
some or all of his property for a consideration — not a 
slight one, by any means ; and the whole county was 
affected with this epidemic, there being places of only 
a few thousand inhabitants where corner lots were sold 
almost at New York City prices. 

One day, driving along a country road about twenty 
miles from Los Angeles, I noticed half-a-dozen well- 
dressed men resting under a tree. My companion in- 
formed me they were doubtless a syndicate looking 
about for a place to locate a new town. At Fullerton, 
a few miles from Anaheim, I saw one of these new 
towns. It consisted of the framework of a large hotel 
and of a few hundred yards of elegant cement sidewalk, 



LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 7 

not in front of the hotel, but in another part of the 
"town." Elsewhere towns get pretty large before any- 
one begins to think of a sidewalk, even of the most 
primitive kind ; but the residents in Los Angeles County 
of course would not be satisfied with a sidewalk in any 
way inferior to that in front of Mr. Vanderbilt's house 
in Fifth Avenue. I may add that since then Fullerton 
has grown up into quite a little town. 

Having built his sidewalk and his large hotel (with 
real-estate office) in place of the saloon which usually is 
the pioneer building in Western towns, the Southern 
Californian begins to cast about for a supply of water ; 
not so much for domestic use — since wine is almost as 
cheap as water — as for the irrigation of his garden and 
fields. If a river or brook is near by, a water company 
is formed, ditches are dug, and each shareholder, after 
paying his dues, may have his water " on tap " whenever 
he wants it. In the absence of a river, wells are made 
to supply the water. Sometimes these wells are bored 
horizontally into the mountain side, thus creating an 
artificial spring ; but, as a rule, the wells are vertical, 
from eighty to five hundred feet deep, or even more, 
although at one hundred to two hundred feet the water 
is generally obtained in abundance. A windmill is then 
erected over the well, which pumps the water into a 
large, high tank, whence it is easily conveyed to the 
garden or field by hose. There is no lack of wind to 
drive these mills ; for the charm of Southern Califor- 
nia's climate lies in this, that although the sky is com- 
monly cloudless., and the sun warm, winter and summer, 
there is almost always a brisk breeze to temper the 
solar rays, and deprive them of their sting. 

This is true especially of Los Angeles County, which 



5 LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 

is situated between the deep sea and an imposing circu- 
lar range of mountains, that send their breezes down 
over the valley as soon as the ocean breezes cease ; and 
although at some seasons both these air-currents, near 
their source, would be unpleasantly cold for invalids, 
they are almost always mellowed and warmed by the 
sun's rays before they reach the centre of the valley. 
Tlie morning — till about two o'clock — is the warmest 
part of the day ; but in the autumn the morning heat 
is tempered by a daily fog, which remains till about ten 
o'clock. It is not a depressing fog, and is rather en- 
joyed by the natives, as a temporary change from the 
everlasting sunshine. In fact, sunny monotony is the 
gravest charge that can be brought against the climate 
of Southern California. In the autumn and spring a 
few rainy days afford refreshing variety ; but summer 
and winter are alike in their cloudless skies, warm sun- 
shine, and alternating mountain and ocean breezes. As 
a physician at Anaheim remarked to me, the seasons do 
not differ in character, but only in flavor, like the dif- 
ferences between severals kinds of apples. He also 
informed me that, although tlie temperature sometimes 
rises above a hundred in the shade, he has never 
seen a case of sunstroke — tlianks to the dryness of 
the air and the almost incessant breezes. Yet, like 
all southern climates, it fosters indolence, mental and 
physical ; and he would not recommend it, therefore, 
to young persons, except for money-making purposes. 
But for invalids and for elderly persons, it is the 
best place in the world. The somnolence brooding 
in the air (except in Switzerland I have never slept so 
soundly in my life as here) would cure the worst case 
of Wall Street insomnia ; and the incessant sunshine 



LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 9 

and constant life in the open air can hardly fail to add 
ten years or more to the life of old men or women 
who desert their over-heated and ill-ventilated Eastern 
homes for the open air and winter sunshine of Los 
Angeles County. 

The general irrigation now resorted to, and the 
numerous green oases which have in consequence 
sprung up amid the deserts of prickly cactus, have 
already exerted some influence on the climate, and there 
is reason to believe that rain will be more abundant 
in the future than it has been in the past. A potent 
factor in producing this change will be the groves of 
trees that are being planted everywhere. There are 
some poplars and locusts and other trees that appear 
to flourish tolerably well, but the two species that most 
triumphantly defy sunshine, dust, and drought are the 
red-pepper-tree and the Australian eucalyptus, both of 
them beautiful to behold. Tlie red-pepper-tree, with 
its gracefully drooping branches, resembles a weeping 
willow, but its growth is more luxuriant, its dimensions 
larger, and it is adorned with bunches of beautiful 
small red berries. The leaves, when bruised, have a 
strongly pungent cayenne odor, whence the name of 
the tree. The leaves and fruit of the eucalyptus have 
a still more objectionable odor when crushed (very 
much like assafoetida), but the tree has a most stately 
appearance, and its marvellously rapid growth — a seed 
becoming a large tree in a few years — causes it to be 
raised on a large scale for fuel and for shady avenues. 

But although Los Angeles County can raise the 
Australian eucalyptus and the pepper-tree, there is a 
point at which the climate draws the line further south. 
Thus, the banana and the pineapple, although they can 



10 LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 

be raised here, do not usually tlirive well, and the same 
is true of the almond. Yet the Los Angeleiios do not 
despair on that account, as they have a superabundance 
of other fruits to fall back on. Of the vast and fruitful 
orange and lemon orchards of this region every one has 
read. Figs grow abundantly and are in good demand, 
especially those of the Smyrna variety, which are now 
displacing the others. The demand for California olive 
oil is greater than the supply, and it is equal in quality 
to the best Italian oil. English walnut-trees yield a 
profitable crop. Peaches are so abundant that they are 
fed to the cows, and some varieties (but not all) are 
equal in flavor to the New Jersey and DelaAvare crop. 
Ears of corn a foot long, with twenty rows to the ear, 
can be seen in the market, side by side with gigantic 
twenty-horse-power onions, and potatoes weighing from 
two to five pounds. Sugar-beets are on exhibition, 
weighing fifty pounds, and pumpkins of one hundred 
and fifty to one hundred and seventy-five pounds. 
Pumpkins, melons, tomatoes, and other creepers grow 
wild, without any care, and may even become a weedy 
nuisance. If a Chinaman eats a watermelon under a 
tree along the road, the chances are that a crop of wild 
melons will be found in that neighborhood the following 
season ; and on one farm I saw a volunteer tomato plant 
which the owner said he had ploughed down twice, but 
when I saw it, it measured at least twelve feet square, 
and had thousands of small red fruit on it of the kind 
which is only used for preserves, although, like the little 
yellow ones, it is of a much more delicate flavor than 
the large tomatoes, which alone, for some inscrutable 
reason, are ever seen on our tables. 

This list is very far from complete and is being con- 



LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 11 

stantly extended ; for California is still largely in an 
experimental stage of development. The experiment 
with ostrich-farming near Anaheim has resulted success- 
fully, and other farms have been started near Los Ange- 
les. I visited the original farm near Anaheim. The 
keeper, an Englishman imported from Africa, showed 
me a fine lot of healthy birds and some beautiful speci- 
mens of feathers, naming prices which, if they were 
advertised by a New York house, would create a riot 
among " bargain "-seeking women; for it is to be hoped 
that women, having abandoned the vulgar fashion of 
wearing stuffed bird-corpses on their hats, will return to 
their old love, the delicate plumes of the ostrich, the 
wearing of which involves no cruel massacre of inno- 
cents. And California has another kind of plume to 
which the attention of women should be directed, the 
product of what might be called the vegetable ostrich, 
— pampas grass. Nothing more exquisite for a vase or 
for a (fan-shaped) wall ornament could be imagined 
than these bushy white (or colored) plumes, which in 
Los Angeles County attain the height of thirty-six 
inches, not including the stem. Formerly, when these 
plumes were imported from South America, florists 
charged a dollar or even a dollar and a half apiece for 
them ; now the retail price is twenty-five cents, and the 
wholesale price three or four cents. Vast quantities are 
being exported to Europe, and Southern California is 
able to supply the demand of several continents, as the 
pampas grass, like most plants, grows there like a weed. 
A dark cloud has, however, lately risen, and is for the 
moment casting an ominous shadow over the cheerful 
prospects of California. All the products so far men- 
tioned are, of course, subordinate in importance to the 



12 LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 

grape crop ; and the California grape-vine has been for 
several years threatened by an enemy more dangerous, 
because more obscure, than the phylloxera. A few years 
ago some of the grape-vines in Los Angeles County sud- 
denly began to die out. Among these were some of the 
oldest vineyards, eighty years old or more. Indeed, the 
old Mission gi-ape was the first to be attacked. Then 
followed other varieties, always in the same order in each 
vineyard. The disease begins at the tip of the vines and 
slowly spreads downwards, the roots being affected last. 
The second season the crop is a comparative failure, and 
the third the vineyard is a graveyard. One lady told 
me she had dug up and used for fuel as many as eighty 
thousand of her vines within a few years. The disease is 
said to be not phylloxera nor mildew ; nor have the chem- 
ical experts who have examined the vines been able to 
throw any light on the matter, except by attributing the 
decay to a kind of cellular degeneration. Various theo- 
ries are being discussed, and the owners of the vineyards 
meanwhile console themselves with the statement that a 
similar mysterious disease affected the grapes of Sicily 
and Madeira at one time, and disappeared after a few 
years, allowing the young vines to grow as before. 
What causes them to look with comparative indiffer- 
ence on this temporary (as they hope) interruption of 
business is the fact that there has been an over-joroduc- 
tion of grapes, in consequence of which tlie price of 
wine has fallen to unprofitable figures. An interruption 
of a few years in this excessive production would raise 
the prices, and thus pay for the losses now sustained. 

In the meantime the wine-growers would do well to 
ponder the fact that quality is of much more value, finan- 
cially and gastronomically, than quantity. Labor is 



' 



LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 13 

scarce in harvest-time, and, to save trouble, too many of 
the small growers neglect to pick out the green and 
sour grapes, which therefore vitiate the juice of the 
whole bunch ; or else they intrust the cleaning of their 
old barrels to ignorant Chinamen (the Indians have 
all disappeared), with equally disastrous results. Too 
many Eastern people have contracted absurd prejudices 
against California wines, because chance threw some of 
this sour wine into their cellars. But it may be safely 
stated that the average California claret and white wine 
and port are superior to the wine that may be bought 
for the same money in France and Germany and else- 
where. The IcibeU of famous French wines and Cog- 
nacs are for sale openly in the show-cases of country 
stores in Los Angeles County ! These honest folks 
are practically compelled to use this stratagem. They 
would much prefer to sell their best wines under Cali- 
fornia labels, in order to build up their reputation. And 
if California wine-growers used the same caution as 
those of Europe, this subterfuge would no longer be 
necessary. I have tasted old Zinfandel equal to the 
best French chateau wines, because made with the same 
care, and it fetched almost as high a price in San Fran- 
cisco as foreign wines. 

Whatever may be the outcome of the present vine- 
yard epidemic. Southern California will have plenty of 
other things to fall back upon. A few years ago it 
looked as if all the crops were to be neglected, compar- 
atively, and a specialty made of building hotels for 
invalids and tourists. Among the special attractions for 
tourists is quail-hunting in the foothills. The physician 
already referred to kindly took me out on an afternoon 
hunt. We drove in a tough two-horse buggy, up and 



14 LOS ANGELES COUNTY. 

down hill and along the dry bed of a brook, carefully 
dodging the bristling cactus bushes, which are a^jt to 
make a deep impression on " tenderfoot " visitors, less 
by the grotesque manner in which their fleshy leaves 
are stuck on one another at odd angles than by their 
fish-hook-like spines. These prickly leaves are so 
arranged that nothing larger than a quail or a rabbit 
can get under their protecting shadows. The dogs give 
them a wide berth, and the quail can only be shot on 
the wing if they are alarmed and fly from one group of 
cactus bushes to another. The result of an hour's 
buggy -hunting was nine quails, three pigeons, and two 
rabbits. 



II. 

SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 

A COLLAPSED " BOOM " LOS ANGELES TO-DAY PROS- 
PECTS FOR IMMIGRANTS POULTRY AND CATTLE FIVE 

SOURCES OF WATER FOR IRRIGATION WINDMILLS, AND 

TUNNELS UNDER RIVER BEDS. 

In 1887 all the hotels in Los Angeles were over- 
crowded, the post-office almost unable to get through 
with its business, the city growing like an asparagus 
stalk after an April shower, and the demand for labor 
so great that the workmen could practically dictate 
their own terms. The smaller towns and would-be 
towns had also caught the infection, and were building 
huge hotels, cement sidewalks, and street-car lines ; not 
because it was supposed that towns of two thousand 
inhabitants needed such things, but in order to be able 
to advertise in the Eastern papers and in real-estate cir- 
culars that the place had street-car lines, cement side- 
walks, and hotels " with all the modern conveniences." 
Each town printed a special illustrated pamphlet in which 
its unique attractions, as compared with all rivals, were 
set forth, culminating in the claim that its township was 
the " Italy of America " or of the West ; while San 
Diego brought matters to a climax by styling itself 
" the Italy of Southern California." 

In 1889, when I made my second visit to Los Angeles 

15 



16 SOUTHEKX CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 

County, I found everywhere evidences that the boom 
had coUapsed. The street-car lines in the small towns 
barely paid expenses, though it was regarded as an act 
of local patriotism to ride on them ; and the cement 
sidewalks, which had been prolonged far into the fields, 
had failed to charm into existence tlie rows of houses 
that had been looked for. In the metropolis itself, work- 
men were grumbling at insufficient employment, mer- 
chants clamored that their rents were fifty per cent too 
high, many store windows were pasted with closing-out 
notices, real-estate offices were no longer as abundant as 
saloons, and the bookstores, more wretchedly supplied 
than those of any town of ten thousand inhabitants in the 
United States, were even selling the twenty-cent paper 
novels at " cut rates." The newspapers of Northern Cal- 
ifornia, of Oregon, Washington, and other Western States 
as far east as Kansas, which had long been jealous of the 
prosperity of Southern California, and desired a boom 
of their own, crowed loudly over the " busted boom " 
of Los Angeles, while the papers of that city, no longer 
compelled by the pressure of real-estate advertisements 
to add two or four extra pages to their issues, had daily 
elaborate editorials to disprove the allegations of their 
envious rivals. 

An unprejudiced observer, interested only in the cli- 
mate and the scenery, and not in the real estate, of 
Southern California, could not but admit, from the signs 
just noted, that these "envious rivals " were right in in- 
sisting that the boom had collapsed ; but the inferences 
drawn from this fact, that Southern California had been 
overpraised, and that its road was to be down hill in 
the future, were absurd. Southern California cannot 
be overpraised, and, in my humble opinion, its pros- 



SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 17 

pects are brighter than those of any other portion of the 
United States. To a large extent the late boom was 
nothing but a huge gambling scheme, an epidemic of 
wild land-speculation, wliich carried along in its rush 
thousands of thoughtless victims, like the mad stam- 
pede for Oklahoma. Southern Californians knew bet- 
ter than others that the sudden rise in their land prices 
were artificially stimulated and would be followed by a 
reaction ; but they were bound to make hay while the 
sun shone, and found to their delight that the sun shone 
longer in California than elsewhere, in the metaphorical 
sense as well as in reality. At last the storm came, and 
swept away many of the " tenderfeet," or late comers, 
and their new buildings, whose debris is now lying 
about, so to speak, and is pointed at as a terrible warn- 
ing and lesson ; but the only lesson it does teach is that 
people should avoid real-estate gambling. The frag- 
ments of the ruins will soon be cleared away, and then 
it will be found that, although many individuals have 
suffered during the storm, the State as a whole has 
been benefited by it. 

In many cases the large, useless hotels built in the 
small towns have already been secured at a bargain for 
school buildings, and in the larger cities many public 
works have been provided which, without the artificial 
stimulus of the boom, would have been postponed to the 
indefinite future ; as, for instance, the long fllume, cost- 
ing almost a million of dollars, Avhich now provides San 
Diego and vicinity with abundant pure water, and will 
do more to develop the resources of the county than 
the discovery of several gold mines. Los Angeles 
made the great mistake of not building a sewer to the 
sea during flush times, and now suffers under the dis- 



18 SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 

advantage of vitiated air, which, if not remedied, will 
destroy its reputation as a health resort. 

In other respects, Los Angeles is already recovering 
from the effects of the collapse. Fine new buildings 
arc again going up, the streets are always animated, and 
the cable-car tracks have been lately prolonged into the 
picturesque hilly region behind the city, which affords 
the finest imaginable sites for suburban cottages, with 
superb views of the mountains, and a glimpse of the 
Pacific Ocean, fourteen miles away. Though founded 
in 1781, Los Angeles had less than five thousand inhab- 
itants in 1860, and only thirteen thousand in 1880, 
while to-day it has sixty thousand or more. Thirteen 
years ago no railroad connected it with other parts of 
the world, while to-day it is one of the greatest railroad 
centres in the West. And as it still remains, what it 
always was, unsurpassed by any city in the world for 
climatic and scenic advantages, it has every reason to 
look forward to a prosperous and brilliant future. 

Southern California includes five counties, — Los 
Angeles, Santa Barbara, Ventura, San Bernardino, and 
San Diego, — embracing, as General N. A. Miles points 
out, "a territory nearly the size of the State of New 
York, and with natural resources of ten times its value." 
This seems a big statement, but its truth can be realized, 
without the use of figures, by considering that these five 
counties are capable of supplying the United States with 
all the figs, raisins, prunes, wine, olives and olive oil, 
oranges, lemons, nuts, and canned fruits that are now 
imported from France, Italy, and Spain ; most of them, 
wdth proper care, equal in quality if not superior to the 
imported articles. Although large quantities of all 
these fruits are already raised, they are a mere trifle 



SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 19 

compared with what the soil is capable of yielding to a 
larger population. It has been proved over and over 
again that ten to twenty acres of good irrigable land 
are all that is needed to support a family, and there is 
therefore room for hundreds of thousands of immigrants. 
However, it is candidly admitted that Southern Cali- 
fornia is a land of more promise to the farmer who has 
at his disposal a capital of a few thousand dollars than 
to the emigrant who brings with him little but a team 
and a pair of muscular arms ; for improved land, with 
bearing vines and fruit trees, costs from one hundred 
to five hundred dollars an acre, while unimproved land, 
though it may be had for one-fifth those prices (twenty 
to one hundred dollars), yields no return for several 
years, unless grain is raised ; for all of the semi-tropical 
fruits above named require from three or four to ten 
years before a profitable crop is yielded. 

And yet personal observation has led me to believe 
that there are special opportunities in this region pre- 
cisely for the farmer with limited means, if he is willing 
to curb his ambition and content himself with dairy 
farming and the raising of ]5oultry on a large scale for 
the market. The farmers now settled in Southern Cali- 
fornia are so ambitious to become orange, olive, or vine- 
yard kings that they entirely neglect the farmyard, and 
have hardlv enough milk and butter and vefretables for 
home consumption. It is almost impossible in any part 
of Southern California to get a good piece of beef or 
mutton, and chickens are imported by the carload from 
Kansas and other " Eastern " States, and sold at absurdly 
high prices at Los Angeles, although in this mild climate 
it is easy to raise chickens all the year round, and I 
have myself seen splendid broods of young ones grow 



20 SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 

up in about half the time they need in the East to reach 
a marketable size, the simple precaution bein^ taken of 
providing them with dry housing during rainy nights. 
If this is not done, their growth is remarkably retarded, 
and many of them become diseased, and, if not killed or 
isolated, will infect a whole yardful of poultry. 

Cattle-raising, too, must prove profitable in a region 
where the animals can feed on the green foothills and 
valleys all the " winter," and in summer eat the sun- 
dried grass or clover which covers the whole country. 
The wild, clover-like alfileria, which furnishes most of 
this natural hay, grows in profusion along the roadsides 
and in the meadows, and even fills up the empty patches 
in the cactus fields. After the spring rains it attains a 
height of ten to fifteen inches, with a dozen plants to 
the square inch, and is so juicy and tender that one can 
mow it down with a cane or with the hands ; and a 
week later it is as high as if it had never been cut. 
It looks so luscious and sweet as to almost make one 
long to be a cow or a sheep, in order to be really " in 
clover " for once. Again, the cultivated clover, or 
Chilian alfalfa, if sufliciently irrigated, yields half-a- 
dozen or more crops of hay a year, which makes the 
sweetest butter and meat in the world. Yet the 
Southern Californians, as I have just said, import most 
of their butter and meat ; consequently, if some farmers 
should undertake to supply the local market with home- 
made products, fresher and cheaper, because with no 
freight charges on them, they would have a sure source 
of prosperity before them. It is probable that the 
drought of 1863-64 discouraged the cattle business; but 
there has been none since that time, and with the 
present railway facilities and a reasonable foresight in 



SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 21 

storing hay, no disaster need be feared in the future. 
Moreover, one of the best and cheapest kinds of cattle 
food, pumpkins, as large as beer-barrels, can be raised 
here by the thousand with hardly any trouble or ex- 
pense. Sometimes they lie in a field so densely that 
one might walk over it without touching the ground ; 
and I saw several fields in which huncb-eds of fine 
pumpkins, for which the farmers had no use, owing to 
the scarcity of cattle, were left to rot on the ground. 

Before purchasing land in California of the South, 
it is well that the investor should have made up his 
mind in regard to what branch of agriculture he wishes 
to devote himself. For although it is one of the 
chief advantages of this soil that it can be made to pro- 
duce most of the fruits of the temperate and semi-tropi- 
cal, and some of the tropical zones, yet each township 
or locality has its special adaptedness for this or that 
product, and to ignore this is to labor under disad- 
vantages. Thus, Riverside and vicinity have been found 
most favorable to the culture of the orange, because the 
destructive scale-bug does not flourish here as it does 
nearer to the coast. Of lemons, the finest sjDCcimens are 
grown near the Mexican border, in San Diego County, 
which also furnishes some of the best raisins and olives. 
Santa Barbara County yields the finest pampas plumes 
and the best walnuts, and Los Angeles County is still the 
wine centre of the South, notwithstanding the ravages of 
the mysterious vine disease. The conclusion, too, is 
being gradually reached that for vineyards the foothills 
are the best localities, since in Europe all the best vines 
are raised on the hill-sides. Plants of a distinctly trop- 
ical type, also, like tea, bananas, etc., might perhaps be 
successfully raised on the lower foothills, which have 



22 SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 

an immunity from the light frost that occasionally, in 
winter and spring, visits the lowlands near the ocean. 
And besides these facts, it is well to know that in the 
same locality the soil often presents great differences, 
so that in a twenty-acre field one half may be well 
adapted for the orange or olive, while the other half 
needs a different crop. Above- all things, " tenderfeet ''" 
should beware of buying land immediately after the 
spring rains ; for then the whole face of the country is 
covered with a rich carpet of grass and flowers, so that 
it is difficult to distinguish the good land from the sand- 
bottomed site of a former river bed, useless for anything 
but cactus. 

Finally comes the most important of all questions, — 
the facilities for irrigation. Grain, if sown in winter or 
early spring, ordinarily needs only the regular rains of 
the season to reach maturity, and there are localities 
where many other crops can be raised without irriga- 
tion ; but these are the exception, and as a general 
thing the semi-tropical fruits which constitute the spe- 
cialty of Southern California, need water for profitable 
culture. vSo well is this now understood that it is a 
favorite joke of the natives to say that if you pay for 
the air and water, they will throw in the land gratis. 

Fortunately there are no fewer than six sources from 
which crops are supplied with water, if we include rain. 
For small vegetable or flower gardens sufficient water 
can be raised by means of windmills, which are kept in 
brisk motion every afternoon by the sea-breeze in the 
whole region within twenty or thirty miles of the ocean, 
except during two or three of the " rainy months," 
when they are not needed. These mills also supply the 
kitchen, and it is curious to note how cold the water 



SOUTHERN CALIFOBNIA IN WINTER. 23 

remains in the large tanlvs exposed all clay long to a 
semi-tropical sun. Much of the water used in town and 
orchard is supplied by artesian wells, which, however, 
occur only in certain belts, especially in Los Angeles 
and San Bernardino Counties, although none of these, 
I believe, equal one dug in Sonoma County last winter, 
which is one hundred and fifteen feet deep, cost only 
two hundred dollars, and yields almost half a million 
gallons every day. 

Rivers of the size of the Sacramento, or those of Ore- 
gon, Southern California has none, but there are some 
smaller rivers and a large number of creeks, fed by the 
mountain snows, which are tapped in two ways for irri- 
gating purposes, — on the surface and below the bed. 
The surface water is often carried many miles in ditches ; 
and wise is the community which lines its ditch at once 
with cement, else in summer it loses almost two-thirds 
of its water supply by absorption on the way. The 
Santa Ana River, which is quite a respectable stream in 
winter, and after rains becomes a formidable torrent, lia- 
ble to overflow its banks and change its channel (thereby 
causing boundary disputes), is in summer tapped so 
freely that its bed becomes dry, and not a drop reaches 
the ocean. 

Much more curious than this surface tapping, how- 
ever, is the tunnelling, by means of which the water 
which has buried itself beneath the sandy river bed, as 
if to escape the merciless pillaging of the hot sun and 
the greedy farmers, is brought to the surface again and 
utilized. It is in this way that the Santa Ana River is 
despoiled of its last drop, and the value of this proced- 
ure may be estimated from the statement made by the 
San Bernardino Times, that "the Ontario Land Com- 



24 SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA IN WINTER. 

pany has driven a tunnel in under San Antonio Creek, 
a distance of nearly eighteen hundred feet, at a cost of 
about fifty-two thousand dollars, and they have about 
two hundred and fifty inches of water, worth a quarter 
of a million of dollars." As it hardly ever rains during 
the summer, all the water thus drawn off the rivers in 
the irrigating season comes from the springs and the 
melting snows in the mountains. This is just about 
sufficient for the present needs of the population ; but 
no fears need be entertained for the future, since, as the 
rural population increases, it will become profitable to 
expend large sums in building reservoirs in the canons 
to store the abundant winter water which now runs to 
waste in the ocean. In this way the mountains can be 
made to yield an absolutely unlimited amount of water, 
sufficient to support tens of millions ; and the lesson 
taught by the Johnstown disaster will prevent the dams 
from being carelessly constructed. 



III. 

THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 

VALUE OF RESERVOIRS WINTER IX SOUTHERN CALIFOR- 
NIA FLOWERS AND SUNSHINE WHERE RAIN MEANS 

« BETTER WEATHER " DRY AIR AND SEA-BREEZES 

FOGS AND FROST CALIFORNIA FOR INVALIDS AS COM- 
PARED WITH ITALY, SPAIN, AND AFRICA RURAL 

CITIES OF THE FUTURE THE PACIFIC ANDALUSIA SOME 

DISADVANTAGES GOPHERS, DUST-STORMS, DROUGHT 

ENEMIES OF THE ORANGE AND VINE. 

That there could be no better way of investing capi- 
tal than by building reservoirs is shown by the fact, 
recently pointed out by the California State Board of 
Trade, that ten years ago the lands of Frenso sold at 
from three dollars to twenty dollars per acre, while now, 
with water on it, the same land sells at from seventy-five 
to seven hundred and Mty dollars per acre. Equally 
great is the gain from an aesthetic point of view. Without 
water, four-fifths of Southern California is a dreary cac- 
tus desert during the greater part of the year ; with 
water, it is a veritable garden grove. Nothing could be 
more delightful than to watch the effect of water in this 
magic climate, when the first rains fall in October or 
November. Up to that period everything except the 
irrigated garden and orchard oases wears a parched 
yellow and brown aspect ; but hardly has the rain pen- 

25 



26 THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 

etrated a few inches into the soil, when the grass turns 
green, and before the eye has become accustomed to the 
change, gaudy flowers, gradually increasing in variety 
and abundance, spring up on all sides, even on land 
which appeared to be pure sand, but which on closer 
examination proves to be rich in decomposed vegetable 
matter. The irrigated gardens have an abundance of 
choice flowers all the year round, and the garden of the 
house where I lived, though without the slightest pre- 
tensions, had in full bloom, in January, petunias, calla 
lilies, violets, honeysuckles, geraniums (six feet in 
height), stock, California poppy, hyacinths, smilax, 
heliotropes, nasturtiums, red, white, yellow, and green 
roses, etc. In February a frost nipped the leaves of 
the bananas, heliotropes, and nasturtiums, but in a few 
days they were out again ; and of the three or four sub- 
sequent frosts none was heavy enough to injure them, 
while the other flowers mentioned grew uninjured all 
the " winter." This was at Anaheim, twelve miles 
from the sea and twenty-eight miles south of Los Ange- 
les, and gives a better idea of the climate than columns 
of statistics. Nor was it an exceptional year ; for there 
are orange-trees in the State over eighty years old, and 
at the San Fernando Rey Mission olive-trees over a 
hundred years old, proving that in all this period there 
has been no frost sufficiently severe or prolonged to 
injure these sensitive trees. In 1880 a little snow fell 
in Los Angeles County — just enough to astonish the 
young folks, who had never before seen any ; nor have 
they seen any since. The only time when ice ever 
forms (never more than a quarter of an inch in thick- 
ness) is immediately before sunrise, and hardly has the 
sun risen above the horizon when it disappears again. 



THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 27 

To this short duration of the occasional frosts is 
attributed the fact that they do not kill the semi-trop- 
ical vegetation, as happens occasionally in Southern 
Europe ; and at nine or ten o'clock the California farm- 
ers may be seen ploughing for their winter wheat, in 
shirt-sleeves. Hence sufferers from pulmonary com- 
plaints who cannot endure cold will not know that the 
thermometer ever reaches freezing-point if they remain 
in bed till the sun has been out for half an hour. Im- 
mediately after sunset they will again need the pro- 
tection of the house, or of a spring overcoat, as the 
temperature at that time suddenly drops ten to thirty 
degrees. But while the sun shines, they cannot afford 
or desire to lose its rays for a single minute. It is the 
very luxury of existence to walk, ride, or hunt in the 
Southern California February sunshine. The oldest 
inhabitants, used to it as they are, cannot help mutter- 
ing every morning, " What a fine day ! " January, Feb- 
ruary, March, and April, the very four months which 
are the most disagreeable of the twelve in the East, are 
here the most perfect : the sky of the deepest blue, the 
air neither cold nor warm, exhilarating and laden with 
the perfumes of orange blossoms and wild flowers. 
There are, of course, some disagreeable days, but they 
are few and far between, there being but twelve to 
twenty rainy days in Los Angeles County during the 
whole " rainy season " from November to May, so that 
invalids hardly ever miss their sun-bath. Dr. C. B. 
Bates mentions, in the Southern California Practitioner^ 
the case of a consumptive who kept a record of the 
weather at Santa Barbara, and found that in a year 
there were but fifteen days upon which he was confined 
to the house, ten of them being rainy and five windy ; 



28 THE GIIEAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 

and another case of a lady wlio, without any other than 
a brush shelter, spent all of eighteen months, except 
nine nights, in the open air. 

This will appear the more remarkable in view of a 
certain peculiarity of Southern California rains. Else- 
where people often exclaim, " If we only had fine 
weather in the daytime, I shouldn't care how much it 
rained at night ! " Here this wish is fulfilled, for most 
of the rain falls at night. Some will be ready to cry 
out against the " eternal monotony " of this sunshine ; 
but on arriving on the ground they will find this ob- 
jection purely theoretical, and will be only too glad 
to know that they can make projects for work or pleas- 
ure, for picnics or excursions, weeks ahead, with an 
almost absolute certainty of having fine weather. Still, 
there are a few day-showers to break the " monotony," 
and they make up in profusion what they lack in fre- 
quency" — a fascinating spectacle to the senses, and still 
more to the imagination, which evokes pictures of pros- 
perous grain-fields and lovely flower-meadows. Surely 
that must be j)ronounced an ideal climate for an invalid 
and valetudinarian where every rainy da}^, even during 
the so-called rainy season, is regarded as a special dis- 
pensation of a kind Providence, is commented upon 
in jubilant editorials by the journalists (who had for 
some time predicted " better weather," i.e. rain), and is 
recorded in telegraphic tables noting the daily rainfall 
in every town, to the hundi-edth of an inch ! And be it 
admitted that there is ground for this jubilation ; for in 
three years out of ten the rainfall is insufficient, and 
then the crops suffer, except where irrigation is prac- 
tised. 

In this immunity from rain-storms. Southern California 



THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 29 

possesses a great advantage over other winter resorts for 
invalids, but it is only one out of lialf-a-dozen advan- 
tages which may here be briefly touched upon. The 
first and most important is the dryness of the atmos- 
phere, which favors the rapid radiation of the earth's 
heat, so that the nights are always cool enough for re- 
freshing sleep, even in midsummer ; and sleep is the best 
of all medicines. So dry is this air that strips of beef 
can be jerked in it by simply letting them hang out- 
doors till desiccated. And the strangest part of it is 
that the sea-breeze, which always blows during the 
hottest hours of the day, is a dry wind, too — a circum- 
stance which some have tried to account for by consid- 
ering it a sort of undertow, or a wave of air which 
came from the dry desert lands to the eastward, and 
returns thither, absorbing but little moisture during its 
brief contact with the ocean. But whatever the cause 
of this dryness, it is a great hygienic factor, which this 
region can play out as one of its highest trumps against 
Florida and Italy. No enervating, malarial swamp 
winds, no sultriness, such as often makes suicide a wel- 
come thought in the East, will ever oppress any one 
in tliis Western sanitarium, not even during the rainy 
spells. Nor has California ever suffered from yellow 
fever, like Florida, or from the cholera, which is a fre- 
quent menace in Spain, Italy, and Sicily. Again, on 
the shores of the Mediterranean, in Europe as Avell as in 
Africa, the invalid will find it almost impossible to ob- 
tain comfortable lodgings and proper food, except in the 
large cities, while in California he can find home com- 
forts in any village and many farmhouses in the midst 
of the wildest scenery and purest air. Never will his 
nostrils be offended here by the pestilential odors which 



30 THE GEEAT AMEKICAN PARADISE. 

poison the air within a radins of several miles of Italian 
and Spanish cities ; nor Avill he ever be compelled by the 
muddy condition of the streets to take his walks all 
winter long on the roof of the hotel, as the proprietor of 
the Continental at Tangier told me some of his invalid 
winter-guests did. What a life compared with the 
floral walks, the hunting, fishing, and picnicking on the 
dry ground and under the blue, rainless sky of Los 
Angeles or San Diego County ! Surely, Southern Cal- 
ifornia is destined to become the sanitarium, not only of 
America, but of Europe as well. 

What makes the fulfilment of this prophecy the more 
probable is the circumstance that California is an all- 
the-year-round sanitarium, and not one of the mere 
winter resorts which compel the unwilling invalids to 
pack up and seek a new clime, when May is gone. No 
one would dream of spending the summer at Malaga, 
Cannes, Naples, Palermo, Algiers, or Jacksonville, ex- 
posed to a sultry, malarial atmosphere, and the danger 
of deadly epidemics ; whereas California has countless 
places where summer and winter are alike, or rather 
alike unknown, the only season known being an eternal 
spring. Many residents in our Eastern and Middle 
States have often wondered what has become of the 
spring, which used to form one of our seasons. It has 
followed the general tide of immigration, has gone West, 
and m1^ now be found in riotous exuberance along the 
coast and the foothills of California. Not that all parts 
of Southern California are as exempt from a summer 
season as they are of winter. On the contrary, there 
are many most desirable winter resorts which invalids 
and tourists will be only too glad to abandon in June, 
such as Riverside, and other places too far in the in- 



THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 31 

terior to get the benefit of the afternoon sea-breezes. 
Even so near the sea as Los Angeles, it is by no means 
pleasant to be exposed directly to the rays of the July 
sun ; yet, owing to the dryness of the atmosphere, — 
which, moreover, increases as the heat increases, — 100° 
is not so oppressive here as 90° in New York. Be- 
sides, in the East there is no refuge from the all-pervad- 
ing heat, except in a cellar ; whereas here one needs 
only to step in the shade to find relief, the difference 
between the sunny and the shady side of a house run- 
ning as high as 30°. Finally, as Southern California 
has an average width of only forty miles, it takes only 
an hour or two to reach the sea-coast, where it is always 
pleasant; and cool mountain resorts are equally accessi- 
ble everywhere, as can be seen by a glance at the map, 
which is blackened by groups and chains of mountains, 
attaining in the San Bernardino range a height of over 
eleven thousand feet. No wonder that camping is the 
favorite pastime of the Calif ornian in summer, and not 
only of the wealthy ; for as the farmer does all his work 
in winter, he can lie fallow in summer, like his som- 
nolent fields, and pitch his tent along any beach or 
canon he chooses ; and camp-life is so inexpensive, 
especially when rod and rifle are available, that the 
poorest can indulge in this luxury during the warm- 
est months. 

Surely, when the human race cuts its wisdom^eeth, 
it will no longer crowd into dirty, noisy, malodorous 
cities, but will seek health and fresh air all the 3^ear 
round. Southern California will loom up more and 
more as an ideal place for building up a vast city in the 
country, so to speak, — a cit}^ in which each house "will 
be surrounded by ten or twenty acres of irrigated land, 



32 THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 

capable of producing all the fruits and vegetables, eggs 
and poultry, needed by the family, and shaded by one of 
the fifty varieties of eucalyptus-trees already imported 
from Australia, or by the spacious pepper-tree, and a 
small orange, peach, and fig orchard. Such a city could 
be built up in a few 3'ears, with shade and all. Else- 
where when people plant trees, they do so for the bene- 
fit of posterity ; here a row of the eucalyptus will 
grow in a few years large enough to afford abundance 
of shade. Noiseless electric railways will traverse this 
country town in every direction, bringing the scattered 
population to the business places and centres of amuse- 
ment. But they will not crave the artificial excitements 
of city life as they do now ; for when there are no excur- 
sions to the sea or the mountains, the fascinating care of 
the orange groves and flower gardens will absorb all the 
leisure moments. What novel, what theatrical play, 
could afford so much amusement as the daily irrigation 
of a flower-bed, and noticing how the plants grow visibly 
and in a few weeks develop into exotic wildernesses of 
tropical and semi-tropical flowers of the most gorgeous 
colors and unheard-of size ? Or watching a rose-bush 
as it graduall}' intertwines itself among the branches of 
an orange-tree, which some morning will present the 
bewitching spectacle of a tree bearing red roses, white 
orange blossoms, and golden oranges all at the same 
time? Or sitting under this orange-tree in February, 
listening to a mocking-bird perched on its branches, 
and reading in joui- paper about the blizzards and storms 
of the East, and the tornadoes and cyclones which 
you know will never visit your home ? Wh}^ should our 
novelists lay the scenes of their tales in Andalusia when 
we have an Andalusia of our own here on the Pacific 



THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 33 

Coast ? At one time it formed part of the so-called 
Great American Desert, but in the next century it will 
be known as the Great American Paradise. 

Yet let not the coming population of the Pacific An- 
dalusia fancy that they will be spared all the trials and 
annoyances of life. Even Southern California has its 
disadvantages, — quite enough to prevent it from degen- 
erating into a Utopia. Thus you Avill some morning be 
standing in your garden admiring your favorite banana 
bush. Suddenly it will tremble and sink into the 
ground a foot or two. Earthquakes are not unknown 
in this region, but they don't " strike in one place " like 
that. No, it was one of those irrepressible gophers, the 
terror of the rural Californian. They will eat the roots 
of your fruit trees and choicest flowers, regardless of 
expense ; and though cats and traps will catch them, 
and irrigation drowns them, the neighboring fields 
always furnish a fresh supply ; and what is worse, their 
subterranean passages from these fields serve as tunnels 
which carry off your water, and make you pay twice as 
much for irrigation as you would have needed but for 
those holes. Then there are scale-bugs of all colors, 
which attack your orange-trees and have to be sprayed 
off ; and a mysterious disease which kills your vines ; 
and small green insects which eat up your flowers and 
buds so that you need a whole drug store to combat them. 
Rabbits will eat your vegetables and grape-vines, and 
the quails will feed on your grapes ; and, to add insult 
to injury, the Los Angeles sporting clubs have suc- 
ceeded in passing a law wliich prevents you from shoot- 
ing these birds at a time when it would do most to 
protect your crops. However, if you are a sportsman, 
you will forgive and observe this law, which enables 



34 THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 

you at other times to shoot at a flock of quail in your 
own vegetable garden, though you live in a town of 
two or three thousand inhabitants. 

The desolate appearance which all the unirrigated 
parts of the country present after May must also be 
reckoned among the disadvantages of this climate ; for 
a sensitive soul can hardly help feeling pity for the 
drooping, parched vegetation, especially after having 
noticed how eagerly it drinks in the first rain of the 
autumn, with as much evident enjoyment as a Bava- 
rian emptying his mug of beer at a draught. Nor can 
one help admitting that the orange groves and eucalyp- 
tus avenues, delightful as they are, cannot entirely 
atone for the absence of green forests ; for Southern 
California, except in the foothills, is as treeless as Spain — 
which it resembles in so many other respects, — and a 
single oak-tree has more than once furnished the nucleus 
of a town. The higher mountains are as bare of trees 
as the valleys, but this is compensated for by the conse- 
quent greater clearness and variety of the sculptured 
outlines, and by the snows wdiich fall during every 
rainstorm, sometimes extending almost down to the 
foothills. In the clear southern atmosphere these moun- 
tains, though they be fifty or sixty miles away, seem to 
be almost within stone's throw ; and as they are visible 
everywhere, they constitute one of the greatest charms 
of Southern California. Once in a while, however, 
this view is spoiled for a day or two by one of those 
desert winds and sand-storms which are the most annoy- 
ing feature of this climate, and are known as the 
Norther, or the "Santa Ana" wind, as the Anaheimers 
call it, in order to give a hated rival town a bad name. 
Without being a hurricane, or even a gale, this wind 



THE GREAT AMERICAN PARADISE. 35 

reaches a considerable velocity, is as dry and warm as if 
it came from an oven, and raises clouds of dust wliich 
obscure the sun and mountains as effectually as the 
smoke of the forest fires does in Oregon, and a film of 
which even lines the waters of the Pacific to a consid- 
erable distance from the shore. If I finally mention 
that this dust, even when it lies quietly on the ground 
two or three inches thick during seven or eight months 
of the year, is by no means a desirable thing to have 
about, I shall have mentioned all the serious blemishes 
that I could discover on the face of this fair country ; 
and they are so insignificant compared with its attrac- 
tions that I have given them the advantage of having 
the last word in this chapter, confident that they cannot 
essentially modify the opinion therein expressed as to 
the future of Southern California. 



IV. 

THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 

THE GERMAN COLONY AT ANAHEIM RABBIT-HUNTING IN 

THE CACTUS FIELDS COWS AND ORANGES THE BEST 

CALIFORNIA ORANGE — RIVERSIDE AND ITS MODEL OR- 
CHARDS ORANGE-PICKING A WONDERFUL AVENUE 

LOCAL FLAVOR IN ORANGES AN ENGLISH COLONY 

HOW PROHIBITION PROHIBITS — SCENES BETWEEN RIV- 
ERSIDE AND SAN DIEGO. 

After enjoying the sights of Los Angeles, including 
the palms and orange groves, the cable-car sceneiy, and 
Chinatown, which have been often enough described, it 
will repay the tourist to devote a week or two to a 
round trip through that part of the State which lies south 
of Los Angeles as far as San Diesco and Tia Juana on 
the Mexican border. Take a ticket to Riverside, via 
Orange, and stop over a day at Anaheim, which com- 
mands a specially fine view of the snow-capped San 
Gabriel range and the giant San Bernardino. Anaheim 
is known as the " mother colony," having been founded 
as early as 1858 by a party of fifty Germans from San 
Francisco, in search of a pleasant site for homes and 
good soil for raising Rhine wine. To-day the popula- 
tion is no longer exclusively German, nor is wine-mak- 
ing the chief industry; for Anaheim enjoys the sad 
distinction of being the place where the destructive vine 
36 



THE HOME OP THE ORANGE. 37 

disease originated, and now there are few good vineyards 
left in the vicinity, though the ceUars of the hospitable 
families are still well stocked with a Riesling that unmis- 
takably betrays its legitimate descent from the cele- 
brated Johannisberger stock on the Rhine. Undaunted 
by their misfortune, the Anaheimers have dug out their 
dead vines and planted in their place oranges, walnuts, 
pampas plumes, and figs, which in a few years will bear 
as rich fruit and as big profits as the former vineyards. 
The fields and orchards are supplied with water through 
a ditch from the Santa Ana River, sixteen miles long, 
and lined all the way with willows. A drive along 
this ditch is interesting, as is a visit to the ostrich farm, 
two or three miles from the town. If a longer stay is 
contemplated, there is excellent hunting of wild goose, 
ducks, and other water-fowl, all the way from Anaheim 
to the ocean, while in the cactus fields around the town 
may be found quails and pigeons, and the sportive jack- 
rabbit abounds. In hunting him, you not only satisfy 
the craving for murder of some sort, which still lingers 
as a relic of savagery in the gentlest human breast, but 
you do a great service to the farmers, who are some- 
times obliged in self-defence to organize rabbit drives, 
at which two or three thousand of the long-eared, fleet- 
footed robbers are killed. 

Rabbit-hunting in cactus fields is a sport quite sui 
generis. The moment you catch a glimpse of Jack, he 
is apt to catch a glimpse of you and dodge behind a cac- 
tus bush ; and if you follow him too quickly but un- 
wisely, you will suddenly find your nether limbs pierced 
with a thousand fish-hook-pointed thorns, requiring an 
hour or two of hard and bloody work for their extrac- 
tion. Unless you kill him on the spot he will crawl 



38 THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 

into a cactus bush, where neither dog' nor devil can 
get at him. You know just where he is, but he might 
as well be at the bottom of the Pacific so far as you are 
concerned. But the loss is not great ; for three out of 
four of these rabbits are not fit to eat, and are therefore 
usually chopped up for chicken food. Whether it is 
that in their flight they run against a tliorny cactus 
leaf or that they carry off part of a load of shot, the 
fact is that the meat is generally diseased, being filled 
with a granular jelly-like substance like tapioca pud- 
ding. Tourists will do well to avoid hare when they 
find it on a Los Angeles bill of fare, as there is little 
reason to believe that the huge piles of jacks seen in 
the market there have been carefully sorted. But there 
is another much smaller rabbit, the cotton-tail, which 
affords equally good sjDort, and which is ahvays good to 
eat ; the younger ones tasting somewhat like chicken. 
Near the towns they are shy, active dodgers, and hard 
to shoot unless you sneak on them ; but in less fre- 
quented hunting-grounds they graze complacently along 
the roadsides and look upon passing buggies as calmly 
as cows. Bang! goes the gun; Nero jumps out and 
brings the victim ; and in this way dozens can be bagged 
in a few hours, before sunset, without once leaving the 
buggy ; so that even invalids and cripples can go rab- 
bit-hunting in Southern California. But there are 
stranger things still. 

Did you ever see a cow eat oranges off a tree ? That 
was one of the sights I witnessed in Anaheim. Not 
satisfied with the basketful of windfall seedlings which 
she received every day, our Millie, like Eve, cast long- 
ing eyes on the fruit tree near her open stable, and one 
day she broke loose and had a regular picnic before she 



THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 39 

was discovered. Her daughter, too, a promising young 
Jersey of six weeks, after one or two suspicious trials, 
became very fond of oranges, and having eaten three or 
four, woukl baah for more. The chihlren of our Mexi- 
can neighbors, seeing all this fun, would come in to buy 
some for themselves, and received a liberal dozen for 
live cents. 

These seedling oranges make delicious orangeade, and 
have a certain value because they ripen later than the 
finer sorts and produce larger crops ; but they are rather 
sour and tliick-skinned, and therefore fetch only a dollar 
or even seventy-five cents a box on the tree and two 
dollars at Chicago, while the best budded variety brings 
two dollars and a half to three dollars on the tree and 
four dollars to four dollars and a half in Chicago. Con- 
sequently the seedlings are no longer set out to any 
extent, while the demand for Washington-navel-trees 
was so great last winter that the nurserymen could not 
supply the demand, and young trees had to be imported 
from Florida. The Washington-navel is by far the 
best of all California oranges. It is a Brazilian orange, 
imported in 1873, and seems specially adapted to the 
climatic conditions of California. Riverside is its chief 
home, and Riverside navels are so highly valued that 
even in Los Angeles you get only three or four of them 
for a quarter of a dollar. They are very large, and, like 
the Spanish blood-oranges, almost always seedless, have 
a thin skin (with a small, navel-like formation or even 
a tiny orange at one end), and a sweet and most deli- 
cately flavored juice. I have squeezed as many as 
twenty teaspoonfuls of juice out of a single one of these 
oranges — a feat which I have never succeeded in accom- 
plishing with a Florida orange. (I may add in paren- 



40 THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 

thesis that to eat an orange with a teaspoon is to lose 
two-thirds of its flavor.) 

The town of Orange, between Anaheim and River- 
side, already gives warning of the neighborhood of the 
State's orange centre. The station, in the springtime, 
is piled np to the ceiling with boxes of oranges, and 
near by a nnmber of men are busily at Avork wiping the 
golden fruit with wet rags and rolling it down inclined 
boards to diy, preparatory to packing. The fruit is 
generally bought on the trees by the packing companies. 
who send round their men with ladders, and sacks sus- 
pended around their necks, from which the fruit is 
transferred to boxes, to be repacked afterwards, the 
bruised or imperfect ones being thrown out, so that 
three boxes (of the seedlings at any rate) yield only 
two for the market. Orange-jjicking is painted by the 
imagination as the most poetic of all agricultural 
employments, and nothing certainly could look more 
picturesque than the boxes of luscious fruit scattered 
through an orchard, under the dark-green, fragrant 
trees ; but the orange-tree, like the rose-bush that loves 
to twine around it, bristles with thorns which cry for 
blood, and make orange-picking about as exciting and 
perilous a pursuit as rabbit-hunting amid the cactus 
bushes. 

The town of Orange belonged till lately to Los 
Angeles County (a separate Orange County was 
formed last year with Santa Ana as its capital), but 
before reaching Riverside we have entered San Ber- 
nardino County, the largest in the United States — 
"about the size of the States of Connecticut, Dela- 
ware, Maryland, and Massachusetts combined." The 
counties of Southern California are very much larger 



THE HOjNIE of THE ORANGE. 41 

than those of the central and northern part of the State, 
and as the popuhition increases they will donbtless be 
fnrther subdivided. But it is doubtful if San Ber- 
nardino County will be divided very soon, for the 
greater part of it is comprised in the irredeemable 
Mojave Desert. The region west of the Bernardino 
range, however, is one of the most valuable in the 
State, experience having shown that it is the chosen 
home of the orange. Los Angeles County has many 
fine and luxuriant orange groves, and more of them 
than San Bernardino County; yet to see California 
orange culture in its highest perfection, one must go to 
Riverside. Nowhere else do the orchards seem so lux- 
uriant and so well cultivated, or the fruit and trees so 
glossy and clean. Here the oranges do not need clean- 
ing with a rag, owing to the absence of the black scale 
which elsewhere often gives the leaves and fruit a dirty 
appearance. The white scale-bug, too, which destroys 
the trees, has thus far spared Riverside groves, and in 
the business street of the town a notice is posted warn- 
ing purchasers of orange-trees not to import any from 
infected counties. The orange is not indigenous to 
California, as it is to Mexico and Florida ; it does not 
flourish here without some care, and becomes remuner- 
ative in proportion to the amount of care bestowed on 
it. A glance at the well-ploughed, weedless, carefully 
irrigated orchards of Riverside at once explains the 
enormous profits realized by local growers ; and an 
incident that occurred at Anaheim throws further light 
on the matter. Noticing a couple of malodorous freight- 
cars on the side track, I asked a man what they con- 
tained. " Manure," he replied, " from the numerous 
sheep corrals in the neighborhood, and bound for River- 



42 THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 

side," adding that this liad been found the best manure 
for oranges, and that in a few jenrs the Anaheimers, 
who now foolishly sold their treasure, would be import- 
ing it from elsewhere at an exorbitant price. Rows of 
cypress-trees are planted along the edge of every 
orchard, and sometimes even traverse the orchard in 
several places, to serve as windbreaks ; for though there 
are no hurricanes to provide against, the desert wind is 
sometimes sufficiently boisterous to shake down bushels 
of unripe fruit and break the heavily laden branches 
unless thus protected. 

The best way to see the Riverside orange groves, and 
marvel at their extent, is to ride or walk along J\Iagnolia 
Avenue, doubtless the finest avenue in America. It is 
laid out a distance of twelve miles, and seven miles are 
now finished. BetAveen the road and the houses on each 
side are four rows of tall eucalyptus and spreading pep- 
per-trees, and two rows of fan palms, ten to twenty feet 
in height, and growing more beautiful every year. Nor 
is this fine avenue a monopoly of carriage-owners ; for 
the poorest can enjoy its sights by paying ten cents for 
a ride in the street cars, which have their track under a 
row of pepper-trees, Avithout interfering with the broad 
carriage-drive. In this way Riverside spreads itself out, 
covering a territory, orchards included, of fifty-four 
square miles, and almost realizing the ideal of one of 
those California " rural cities of the future," sketched in 
the last chapter. The grounds of some of the elegant 
villas which line this road are thrown open to the pub- 
lic, and one of them, which I examined, with its exten- 
sive stables, shady walks, hammocks, tennis grounds, 
and notices of club meetings, and al-fresco teas, had an 
air of hospitality and sociability, recalling the life on 



THE HOME OP THE ORANGE. 43 

Southern plantations before the Civil War. The large 
adobe house, a relic of the Spanish occupation, was deli- 
ciously cool on a warm day, and the owner said he did 
not find it unhealthy. He showed me through his ex- 
tensive orchard, and with a large table-knife cut open 
specimens of more than half-a-dozen different kinds of 
budded oranges for me to taste. They were all sweet 
and juicy, but he had to admit himself that the differ- 
ences in flavor were not so pronounced as the differences 
in the original homes of these varieties led one to expect. 
California fruit-growers doubtless attempt too much in 
seeking to raise oranges from so many different coun- 
tries in the same field without losing their characteristic 
flavor. This difference in flavor is due to differences in 
soil and climate, and can only be preserved and repro- 
duced in a similar soil and climate. As California for- 
tunately has an infinite variety of climates and soil, it 
is probable that the problem of raising Italian, Spanish, 
Mexican, and Florida oranges all in the same State will 
yet be solved, but not in one and the same orchard. 
The Spanish blood-orange, for instance, the most deli- 
cately flavored of all oranges, is rarely seen in California ; 
and when I asked why, I was told that it was inclined 
to sport and lose its characteristics. There is a for- 
tune in store for the man who finds out under what con- 
ditions this variety flourishes in Spain, and seeks out a 
similar locality for it at home. Another excellent va- 
riety, the Florida russet, I never saw on the Pacific 
Coast. Its appearance is against it, and it is difficult to 
teach people to select their fruit for the palate rather 
than the eye. 

Riverside is a little too far inland to get much benefit 
from the ocean breezes, but it is surrounded by moun- 



44 THE ho:me of the orange. 

tains, snow-capped till snmmer, which to some extent 
atone for this disadvantage, and which make Riverside, 
from a scenic point of view, one of the most attractive 
places in the State. This, combined with its horticul- 
tural prosperity, causes it to grow rapidly, and among 
the new comers and the old there are a large number 
of English families, who, of course, endeavor to bring 
their household gods and customs with them. Fore- 
most among these is the fox-hunt ; but as there are no 
foxes to be hunted, the simple-minded plebeian jack- 
rabbit has to take the place of his astute, bushy-tailed 
colleague. There are no fences to jump or fields to 
destroy, and everything is in plain sight ; but as the 
riding is much faster than in England, there is no lack 
of excitement. To come home from one of these hunts 
with a pair of rabbit ears in her hat is the chief pride of 
the English damsels at Riverside. Besides, these orna- 
ments take the place of a parasol, much needed here 
sometimes. In midsummer, no doubt. Riverside is a 
good place to get away from, but in winter it offers 
special advantages to invalids, provided they are willing 
to submit to being treated like children, in being told 
what they may drink and what they may not. River- 
side is a prohibition town. So I discovered at the hotel 
when I asked for a pint of claret. I have never been 
drunk in my life, and I find that a few glasses of pure 
claret aid my digestion, and moreover I like it, and am 
able to pay for it. Yet here I, who am supposed to be 
a free citizen in a free country, am jjlaced in a posi- 
tion where I cannot indulge in a harmless and useful 
pleasure which concerns no one but myself, without 
breaking the law. Of course I broke the law, as any- 
body but a fool or a coward ought to do. A few words 



THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 45 

in private to the waiter, and the wine appeared on the 
table. Of course, when I asked him how much it was, 
he said he wouldn't charge for it, — he had merely 
brought it " to oblige me " ; and of course I asked how 
much he paid for it, and then left that amount, plus 
a suitable fee, on the table. A resident with whom I 
conversed subsequently on the subject gave me some 
instances of capital withheld and capital withdrawn 
from Riverside in consequence of the prohibition law, 
which unfits it as a residence for people who like to be 
free and law-respecting at the same time. A friend in 
Los Angeles had previously explained to me how Pasa- 
dena was damaged Ijy the local prohibition law (Avhich I 
believe has since been repealed), and gave an amusing 
account of the visit of the city fathers to Mr. Raymond, 
who continued to serve wine to his tourist and invalid 
guests after the law had been passed. Mr. Raymond 
quietly informed them that if they would not allow him 
to run a first-class hotel in their town, he would pull 
it down and rebuild it elsewhere. As the. Raymond 
is one of the largest hotels and chief resorts on the 
Pacific Coast, the city fathers got alarmed, took their 
leave, and never molested Mr. Raymond again. 

One more instance : Until within a year or two the 
owner of Catalina Island would not allow any beer 
or liquor to be sold to the thousands of campers on it ; 
whereupon, an enterprising man hired a barge, moored 
it a hundred yards from the shore, put canvas over 
it, filled it with drinl^ables, and hired a boy to ferry 
his customers over and back. Mv. Shatto thereupon 
refused to allow the steamer to land anj^thing for this 
man on his pier ; but the latter got around this, too, by 
simply having his beer-barrels lowered directly from the 



46 THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 

steamer to his boat. These are illustrations of how 
prohibition prohibits in California, 

It is not necessary to stuff your pockets and valise 
full of oranges on leaving Riverside for the South ; for 
you will find just as good fruit, and plenty of it, in San 
Diego County. Backing up to a station called Citrus, 
a few miles north of Riverside, you wait for the train 
which leaves Barstow on the Atlantic and Pacific, 
or Santa Fe, Railway, for San Diego, and which, soon 
after you have boarded it, enters the county of that 
name, — a county not quite as large as San Bernarchno, 
but still, according to the guide-book, covering as much 
ground as Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode Island, 
and Delaware combined. It forms the southwestern 
corner of the United States, and owes much of its local 
color to the proximity of INIexico, or Lower California, — 
a peninsula which a large number of educated people 
in the East are in the habit of mistaking for " Southern 
California." The branch of tlie Santa Fe road referred 
to is known as the California Southern Railroad. Be- 
tween the Bernardino range and the ocean it traverses 
a region where the spring vegetation, though almost as 
abundant as in Los Angeles County, is not so luxuriant, 
owing to the chminished rainfall. Three-fifths or more 
of the vegetation which carpets the fields seems to con- 
sist of Compositrc, and the predominant color is yellow 
— as if to hint at the fact, which has long since been 
demonstrated, that there is more gold to be got out of 
the surface of California soil than out of all its sub- 
terranean mines. 

One never tires of looking at these gaudily colored 
fields, especially when bordered by foothills, whose 
green garb is ornamented with red, yellow, brown, and 



THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 47 

blue patches, like a " crazy-quilt," varying in shade and 
atmospheric effect with the time of the day ; or when, 
as on this route, there is a background of high moun- 
tains, with their snow caps drawn half-way doAvn their 
treeless foreheads as late as May. The two chief moun- 
tains are too long-drawn-out to be imposing sculptu- 
rally, but the great mass of snow on them gains in 
charm by contrast with the surrounding blue sky and 
warm sunshine. The best point of view is from Perris, 
the junction for the short branch road to San Jacinto. 

Soon thereafter the Laguna is reached, also known 
as Lake Elsinore ; but if the tourist expects to see one 
of those picturesque mountain lakes for which the 
State is famous, he will be grievously disappointed. 
The Laguna is a commonplace, dreary old pond, with 
steep hills on one side and flat on the other. There 
are ducks on it, but no cover to approach them. In 
May, 1889, it was sixteen feet higher than two years pre- 
viously, and it has a habit of getting ver}^ low till the 
real estate on its banks has been claimed, whereupon it 
roguishly rises and submerges it for a few years. But the 
soil in the vicinity is credited with marvellous properties. 

We now enter the region of Indian missions and 
reservations, and expect to see some of the redskins 
loitering about the stations, as they do at Yuma and 
elsewhere ; but not a single one is to be seen at any of 
the towns. Those who make pilgrimages in the tracks 
of novel heroines may find something to interest them 
hereabouts Avith their " llamona " as a guide ; but other- 
wise the region is dreary and desolate, its only apparent 
attraction being the snow mountains just described. 
A pleasant change is afforded by the passage through 
the Temecula Caiion, in which it is refreshing to fol- 



48 THE HOME OF THE ORANGE. 

low along a creek, though it be but a few inches deep 
and two or three feet wide. It cools the air and lines 
the bank with pretty bushes. 

Presently smoke-like mists begin to rise from the 
water, as if it were on fire; scattered pools with bul- 
rushes and flocks of birds, and the russet color and rank 
monotony of the vegetation, indicate the approach to 
the ocean. A cool saline breeze strikes the cars; the 
windows of the more sensitive passengers are lowered, 
and at the same moment the Pacific comes into sight — 
to many of the tourists their first view of the king of 
waters. But the outlook is limited, for a few miles at 
sea hovers a fog-bank Avhich looks as opaque and solid 
as if a Krupp gun could make no impression on it. For 
tiie rest of the way to San Diego the ocean is almost 
constantly in sight, and new varieties of plants and 
flowers occupy the attention. Conspicuous among the 
flowers are a white morning-gloiy, larkspurs, and lupines 
in several colors, the ice-plant with red flowers and 
leaves that seem to be covered with icicles, and a flower- 
ing bush which at a distance resembles the alpenrose. 



V. 

OVER THE MEXICAN BORDER. 

SAN DIEGO AND CORONADO BKACH AN IDEAL CLIMATE 

AN ARTIFICIAL LAKE HOW TOWNS ARE RAISED THE 

NATIONAL BOUNDARY DONKEYS VERSUS RAILROADS 

MORE SALOONS THAN HOUSES LIMES VERSUS LEMONS. 

Although San Diego has no lack of hotels, most of 
the tourists cross the bay which separates the city from 
the thirteen-mile-long peninsula known as Coronado 
Beach, and take up their abode in the Coronado hotel, 
covering more than seven acres, — the largest in South- 
ern California, and second in size and elegance only to 
the Del iMonte at Monterey. Porpoises sport about the 
ferry-boat, almost within arm's reach, and excite the appe- 
tite for sea-fishing. On the peninsula, a steam-dummy 
connects Avith the ferry and conveys those passengers 
for whom the coaches are too slow to the hotel. Cor- 
onado affords an excellent instance of what can be done 
in this region with irrigation. A few years ago this 
whole peninsula was a desert, while now there are nu- 
merous villas and stores, and good roads, and avenues of 
young trees, which in a few years will afford welcome 
shade. The hotel is surrounded by flower-beds as mon- 
strous in proportion as itself, crowded with enormous 
double stocks, petunias, large pansies, marguerites, etc., 
etc. : and another superb flower-garden takes up the 

49 



50 OVER THE MEXICAN BORDER. 

interior court. Dining-room, parlors, and dance-hall 
are sufficiently spacious for all emergencies, and simply 
though tastefully decorated. It may seem a disadvan- 
tage that, owing to the position of the dance-hall, there 
are few rooms facing the ocean ; but as it is always cool 
here, day and night, summer and winter, the site of 
rooms is not so important a matter as on the Atlantic 
Coast. 

No other part of California has so perfect a climate 
as Coronado and San Diego, the mean difference in tem- 
perature between summer and winter being only 12.3°, 
with an average of only five days a year when the ther- 
mometer rises above 85°; and, what is still more remark- 
able, only twelve days a year when it rises above 80°. 
As only ten inches of rain fall in a year, — just one hun- 
dred inches less than at Sitka, the other extremity of our 
Pacific Coast, — and clouds or fogs of more than a few 
hours' duration are rare, it may be inferred that the sun 
shines almost perpetually, even in winter. When an 
invalid who proposes to make the Coronado his home 
for awhile reads in the rules and regulations pasted 
upon his door that a single fire costs a dollar, he is 
relieved to be told that cold weather is as scarce as fuel, 
and that, according to official government records, dur- 
ing the ten years from 1876 to 1885, there were only six 
days on which the temperature fell below 35°, two on 
which it fell to 32°, and none below that point ! I liad 
also read somewhere that mud is practically unknown, 
since the little rain that falls sinks into the soil immedi- 
ately, so that it is safe to lie on the ground a few hours 
after a shower. I was therefore surprised, on picking 
up a local newspaper, to see an editorial headed " Too 
Much Mud." But on examination it proved to be a 



OVER THE MEXICAN BOEDER. 51 

political, not a meteorological article. On politics cli- 
mate has no effect. 

The Coronado beach is well adapted to bathing, 
which is indulged in all the year round, there being only 
about six degrees' difference in the temperature of the 
water, winter and summer. When the ocean is too 
rough, or the tide unfavorable, the bay affords a safe 
bathing-ground, as at P"'ire Island. That the ocean is 
rough sometimes is evinced by the sad havoc it has 
made with the plank walks between the hotel and the 
water, and, as at Coney Island, it seems to be encroach- 
ing on the hotel premises, and will soon thunder against 
its very foundations. It is interesting to walk along the 
beach towards Point Loma, on which a lighthouse is 
picturesquely situated. Entertainment is afforded on 
the way by the water-fowl, which stand inside of the 
breakers waiting for a big foaming wave, into which they 
plunge headlong, emerging calmly swimming on the 
other side, with a fish struggling in the beak. Twenty 
miles at sea, to the southwest, are the Coronado Islands, 
the haunt of seals, occasionally visited by yachting par- 
ties. There is always something that appeals to the 
imagination in the meeting of two countries, and the 
fact that these islands belong to Mexico makes them 
doubly interesting. 

Tmce a week or oftener opportunity is given the 
guests at the Coronado to put foot on Mexican soil. A 
steam-dummy, with open cars, starts from the hotel, goes 
down the peninsula and up on the other side of the bay, 
as far as National City, and then branches off, first to the 
great Sweet Water Reservoir, and then to Tia Juana. 
It would be difficult to imagine a more delightful excur- 
sion than this seventy-mile round trip in open cars. 



52 OYER THE ISIEXICAN BORDER. 

The cool, fragrant air is free, from diist, and the country 
is so picturesque that one keeps on choosing one phice 
after another as an ideal site for a cottage and an orange 
grove. On reaching the Sweet Water Reservoir, which 
covers seven hundred acres, it is difficult to believe that 
it is not a natural lake, so prettily and cosily does it rest 
at the foot of the surrounding hills. Yet here, where 
now the wild ducks disport themselves, stood several 
farmhouses a few years ago, siuTounded by green fields. 
The dam which created this lake is about four hundred 
feet long at the top and forty-six feet thick at the base, 
built of solid rock ; and the reservoir holds six billion 
gallons, sufficient to supply National City and San Diego 
with water for consumption and irrigation for three 
years, though not another drop of rain should add to its 
volume. A flume seven miles in length carries the 
water to the two cities, which now, with abundant and 
cheap water, can amend their arid, treeless appearance, 
which at present is their least attractive feature. 

After visiting Sweet Water Lake, the train faces about 
and turns towards old " Aunt Jane," or Tia Juana, in 
Mexico, passing through the town of Chula Vista, a 
characteristic Southern California enterprise. A tract 
of five thousand acres has been subdivided by a land 
company into five-acre lots, with avenues and wide 
streets through which the steam-motor passes, and orna- 
mented with thousands of evergreen trees. These lots 
are sold only to purchasers who will agree to build on 
them houses costing not less than two thousand dollars 
within six months from date of purchase ; and by Avay 
of providing models and starting the ball, the company 
itself has erected a number of cottages. Such an attempt 
to force a town by hot-house methods would fail any- 



OVER THE MEXICAN BORDER. 63 

where else : here it will probably succeed. Every time 
the train stops, a handful of real-estate circulars is 
thrown into each car, setting forth the unique advan- 
tages of that particular locality ; while the fine appear- 
ance of the residences, with their lovely gardens and 
orchards, contributes its share towards advertisinof the 
region. For the convenience of the scattered settlers, 
the train-boy throws the daily papers into the yards from 
the flying train. Near the boundary line are some yel- 
low pools, in one of which a Avater-snake darted out its 
angry tongue at a whole carload of tourists and then 
dived out of sight. A few minutes more and we were 
on Mexican soil ; and though sufBcient of the Mexi- 
can element lingers in Southern California to form a 
gradual transition, the change is distinctly perceptible. 
Characteristically enough, the first thing I saw after 
leaving the train was a young burro, with silky hair and 
no larger than a Newfoundland dog. In Spanish coun- 
tries, where the railroad ceases the donkey begins. One 
side of Tia Juana is American ; the other, Mexican. The 
dividing line, where the Estados Unidos meet Mexico, is 
occupied by a restaurant which bears the modest title of 
" Delmonico." Opposite is a cigar-store which has the 
suggestive sign of "The last chance." There are more 
saloons in Tia Juana than buildings. This may seem a 
paradoxical statment, but it is true ; for some of the 
saloons are in tents, open in front, with a counter in the 
centre and empty beer-barrels for seats. The sight of 
the town is the Custom-House, with its polite but pis- 
tolled officials, and the rooms filled with rifles which par- 
ties crossing the line had to leave behind to await their 
return. There are also a few curiosity stores, conducted 
with a truly Spanish lack of enterprise. Almost every 



54 OVER THE MEXICAN BOEDER. 

tourist wants to buy a memento of his hour in Mexico, 
but there is nothing to be had except some very crude 
pottery and a few tiny, hideous chi}^ gods. Nor does the 
proprietor's knowledge of English go beyond the ability 
to say twenty cents or thirty cents. 

Looking bej^ond Tia Juaua, nothing is to be seen but 
lone, low mountains, — not a house or hut anywhere, — 
and we gladly return to civilization with the train. On 
the way back, the conductor pointed out to me the place 
where the famous Bonnie Brae lemons are grown. I 
had previously eaten some at San Diego, and found them 
large and juicy, with fewer seeds and a much less thick 
and coarse skin than other California lemons. This 
variety seems destined to retrieve the reputation of the 
California lemon, which is not equal to that of the 
orange, or of foreign lemons. But I doubt if any kind 
of lemon will have much of a future in this country. 
At San Francisco lemons are not valued nearly so highly 
as Mexican limes, which are gradually taking their place. 
The lime has a tougher skin than the lemon, and does 
not break so easily in the squeezer. In fact, it can 
be easily squeezed by hand ; and besides, there is more 
juice in a small lime than in a lemon twice its size and 
twice or three times its cost. Its taste, after a few 
trials, is more agreeable and piquant than that of any 
lemon, and I believe that Eastern cities will soon follow 
the lead of San Francisco in this matter. The lemon- 
ade of the future will be made of limes. 



VI. 
SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

FROM SAN DIEGO TO LOS ANGELES ALONG THE COAST 

A ROMANTIC SPOT LOST IN A MUSTARD FIELD SAN 

PEDRO FLOATING HIGHLANDS SUN AND OCEAN BATHS 

IN WINTER AVALON VILLAGE THE LUXURY OF EX- 
ISTENCE FLOWERS, HUMMING-BIRDS, AND POISON IVY 

RATTLESNAKES HUNTING WILD GOATS INDIAN 

RELICS ABALONE SHELLS AND THEIR HUNTERS SPORT 

FOR FISHERMEN A SUBMARINE GARDEN THE SEALS 

AT HOME. 

Eastern people have no idea how fast things grow 
in California. Everybody, of course, has heard the 
story of the farmer who in the morning planted water- 
melon seeds in his field, and in the evening found that 
the vine had grown to his kitchen door and deposited 
a ripe- melon on the steps. But this is nothing com- 
pared with the way in which the cities grow. Thus, on 
page 216 of Drs. Lindley and Widney's valuable work 
on " California of the South," we read of " San Diego's 
fifteen thousand inhabitants," while on page 218 (and 
it surely cannot have taken more than a day or two to 
write these two pages) they say that " San Diego is 
growing with most wonderful rapidity. Its population 
is doubtless twenty-five thousand." Most wonderful in- 
deed ! San Diego did seem quitt- a lively place when I 



56 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

saw it, altliougli this may have been partly attributable 
to its being the headquarters of the miners going to the 
Santa Clara mines in Lower California. 'Tis an ill 
wind, etc.; and the losses of these duped miners were 
the gain of the San Diego merchants, who sold almost 
a hundred thousand dollars' worth of victuals and tools 
to the gold-hunters. The temptation to follow the lat- 
ter and get a glimpse of a genuine California mining- 
camp was great ; but on hearing of the hardships to be 
endured, of the two hundred dollars' duty laid by the 
Mexican government on a single wagon and team cross- 
ing the border, and the taxes on provisions equal to 
their full value, which raised the cost of food in camp 
to figures considered fabulous even by miners accus- 
tomed to starvation prices, — not to mention the trop- 
ical rains just then prevalent, which made tenting an in- 
vitation to catarrh, rheumatism, and pneumonia, — I 
concluded to move northward sixty miles or so, and 
spend a few weeks instead on Catalina Island. 

Before leaving the Coronado I had an opportunity to 
note a curious way of settling urban questions in Cali- 
fornia. It had long been in dispute whether or not 
Coronado Beach belonged to San Diego, so it was deter- 
mined to settle the matter on election day. There being 
a law that no liquor may be sold in San Diego on an 
election day, the barkeeper at the Coronado hotel was 
instructed to keep open, for which he was promptly 
arrested. This was to compel the courts to decide the 
question at issue. What the decision was, I do not 
know, as I left the next morning. Retracing my steps 
as far as Oceanside, I took the California Central chrect 
back to Los Angeles. This road continues to skirt the 
ocean as far as San-Juan-by-the-Sea (a few miles from 



SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 67 

the famous San Juan Capistrano Mission), where the 
tourist bids goocl-by to the Pacific, not to see it again till 
he reaches San Francisco, unless he takes a branch road 
to one of the numerous seaside resorts of Los Angeles 
or to Santa Barbara. 

San-Juan-by-the-Sea was called by Dana, in his " Two 
Years before the Mast," " the only romantic spot in Cal- 
ifornia," which is probably the most absurd statement 
regarding California that has ever got into print. But 
it certainly is one of the most charming points on the 
coast for those who love solitude, and all tourists ought 
to stop over at least between two trains and see it. 
If they decide to spend the night at the "hotel," I 
wish them better luck than befell me. Early in the 
morning, having paid the (really) big sum of one dollar 
for supjDer, lodging, and breakfast, I went down to the 
beach, about half a mile from the station, across an im- 
mense field of wild mustard, buried completely in a sea 
of fragrant yellow flowers waving over m}^ head, and 
then had to cross a lively little creek on a narrow plank, 
— a creek which enjoys the satisfaction, rare in this 
region, of reaching the ocean without being tapped, or 
absorbed by the thirsty sun. The view from its mouth 
contrasts delightfully with the uninterrupted, flat sandy 
beach all the way up from San Diego. A high, j)recipi- 
tous rocky shore rises abruptly, and presents itself as a 
bulwark against the restless waves. It leads up to hills 
from which fine views ma}^ be enjoyed, and which give 
room for daily varied rambles which one misses so much 
at a flat place like Coronado Beach. As there is a fine 
beach a short distance below, it would be a splendid 
place for a hotel, and is already much frequented in 
midsummer by campers. When I was there, a deserted 



58 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

hut was the only visible evidence of human agency, 
and the solitude was emphasized by four monstroiis 
pelicans sitting motionless and majestic on an isolated 
rock half a mile at sea. Below the precipice, where 
the waves in low water tumble gently over the rocky 
debris jutting far out into the sea, may be found quanti- 
ties of shells, not dead and deserted specimens lying 
bleaching on the beach, but shells and cockles alive and 
wide awake, and moving about like little pagodas with 
wheels and clockwork. 

On the way back to the station I cut off one of the tall- 
est mustard plants, — bushes they might well be called, so 
thick and tough are the stems at the base, — and asked 
the station master how high he thought it was. He meas- 
ured it and found it eleven feet in height! Then for 
the first time I felt convinced that the narrative of an 
Anaheimer, who told me how thirty years ago he once 
got lost on horseback in a wild-mustard field on the fertile 
soil near where Fullerton now stands, was not a " Cali- 
fornia story." To-day many of these fields of wild 
mustard are mowed down, yielding a crop which is the 
more profitable as there are no expenses for ploughing 
and sowing. I cannot see why there should not also be 
money in the castor bean, Avhich, elsewhere cultivated 
in gardens as an ornamental shrub, is here a weedy nui- 
sance hard to exterminate when it once grains a foothold. 
I have seen it grow as high as a second-story window 
in Los Angeles, side by side with a fuchsia free, so 
to speak, still higher; while roses often cover a whole 
house, roof and all, and would aspire to the moon if 
there was a connecting link. 

To reach Catalina Island Ave take the train at Los 
Angeles for its old harbor town, San Pedro, whence a 



I 



SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 59 

steamer makes trips to the island three times a week. 
San Pedro is considered good fishing-ground, has nu- 
merous duck-ponds in the vicinity, and appears to be 
the headquarters of all the sea-gulls on the Pacific, the 
beach being completely fringed by them at times. The 
chief article of import seems to be timber, the wharves 
being covered Avitli acres of boards and planks, brought 
from Humboldt County and from Oregon and Puget 
Sound. A part of the town lies in a hollow wliich 
forms a complete kettle, and must be an ideal breeding- 
place for typhoid fever. Hotel accommodations are 
very primitive, but the Southern Pacific is completing 
a hotel near the lighthouse, where the sea-breezes can 
never fail. The little steamer ITermosa, specially built 
for the traffic between San Pedro and Catalina, is new 
and comfortable, but has the great fault of rolling on 
the slightest provocation. However, the distance is but 
twenty miles, so that even those inclined to seasickness 
need not dread the passage. Santa Catalina Island is 
the second in size and the most interesting- of the laro-e 
Fxumber of islands which lie along the coast of Cali- 
fornia, beginning with the Coronado group, just below 
San Diego, and ending with Santa Cruz and Santa 
Rosa, off Santa Barbara. As it is the only one which 
has steam connection with the mainland, it has for 
many years been visited every summer by thousands of 
campers, and the hotel erected there lately has added 
to its popularity, although for sanitary and scenic rea- 
sons the site chosen for it is not the best that could 
have been found. The island is visible from the main- 
land all along Los Angeles County, even far in the 
interior, as it has mountains which rise to a height of 
about tln-ee thousand feet. Indeed, as the boat ap- 



60 SAlfTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

proaclies, we see tliat it consists entirely of mountains, 
being a sort of floating highlands, like a section of the 
Coast Range rising abruptly out of the ocean, without 
any gradual slopes or foothills ; presenting a solid front 
of perpendicular rocks except in a few places where the 
wall is broken by a little cove or harbor, with a pebbly 
beach, as at Avalon, where the hotel stands. A study 
of the map of Southern California leaves no doubt in the 
mind that these islands at one time actually did form 
a part of the Coast Range, being connected Avith each 
other and constituting a peninsula extending from Point 
Conception to below Coronado, with a wide channel or 
sound between (like that which now extends for about 
a thousand miles from Olympia to Sitka), and navigated 
by the Pineugnas Indians, who in the time of the early 
Spanish voyagers inhabited Catalina Island, and were 
noted for their fine physique and skill in shipbuilding. 
Though they are now widely separated and scattered, 
these Channel Islands continue to affect the climate of 
Southern California by breaking the force of the wild 
Pacific waves and winds. 

This fact can be vividly realized by climbing the hills 
on Catalina till the Pacific is sighted, dashing its huge 
billows against the naked rocks that rise perpendicularly 
to two thousand feet or more above it, the home of 
eagles that build their nests in these inaccessible heights, 
— monstrous birds, measuring sometimes twelve feet 
from wing to wing. In striking contrast to this turbu- 
lence on the west side is the calm of the eastern side, 
which is hardly ever disturbed, even in stormy weather. 
Here the campers and hotel guests bathe in the bay 
every day in the year, the temperature of the sea-water 
in August being about 66°, and only four degrees lower 



SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 61 

in midwinter ; while in Rhode Island, for example, the 
difference between midwinter and midsummer tempera- 
ture is about 35° ! The Kuro Siwo, or Japan cur- 
rent, three to four hundred miles in width, which 
is deflected by the Aleutian Islands southward along 
the coast of Washington and Oregon, becomes so far 
cooled off by the time it reaches San Francisco as to 
make sea-bathing in that neighborhood unpleasant even 
in summer. But this current is deflected again by Point 
Conception ; and between the Channel Islands and the 
mainland south of this cape there is a return ocean cur- 
rent from the south, which partly accounts for the 
higher temperature of the water at Catalina, as well as 
along the main shore of Southern California. 

The temperature of the air on Catalina Island hardly 
ever rises above SS'', and, thanks to the twenty miles of 
water which separate it from the mainland, it is never 
visited by the hot, parching desert winds. Yet, though 
thus surrounded by a vaporous sea, fog is almost un- 
known, being shut out by the mountains, and, what is 
stranger still, the air is said to be drier than on shore. 
With such conditions and with constant sea-breezes and 
an immunity froni dust as complete as on sliipboard, it 
is no wonder that Catalina is beginning to be looked 
upon as standing to Southern California in the same 
relation as Southern California does towards other 
States. I met several invalids afflicted with rheumatic 
or lung troubles who had failed to find relief at Los 
Angeles or Santa Barbara, but found it at once on Cat- 
alina Island; and convalescents make more rapid recov- 
eiy there than elsewhere. He must be fastidious in- 
deed Avho is not satisfied with the climatic conditions of 
this island, and notwithstanding its mountainous struc- 



62 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

ture, I am convinced that before the end of another 
decade it will be covered with hundreds of handsome 
cottages and several hotels and supply villages. There 
is room for a considerable number of health and pleas- 
ure seekers ; for the island is about twenty-three miles 
long, and from one to seven wide. 

A few miles from its northern end, Catalina presents 
a curious contrast to its usual appearance. Here the 
mountains terminate abruptly, and the island becomes 
reduced to a narrow isthmus, about half a mile wide, on 
one side of which are the turbulent Pacific breakers, on 
the other the calm sound. Here are the ruins of gov- 
ernment barracks, erected during the Civil War and 
now deserted, but no other signs of human habitation, 
though a hotel will doubtless be erected before long. 
The only way of reaching this interesting point is by 
an occasional excursion on a little tug-boat stationed at 
Avalon, the only village on the island at present. It 
consists of the Hotel Metropole (what a name for a 
hotel in such a position I) and a row of shanties, half 
wood and half canvas, in which bread and provisions 
and shells can be obtained. The hotel is built on the 
site of an old Indian burial ground, which is not a 
pleasant thought to those who know that invisible 
ghosts in the shape of typhoid-fever germs have been 
exhumed from European graveyards which had been 
undisturbed for several hundred years. For this and 
other reasons the hotel ought to be removed part way 
up the hill, just south of Avalon, whence a fine view of 
the island and the sound can be obtained. 

But do not fancy that from the top of this hill, or the 
higher one to which it leads, you will catch sight of the 
illimitable Pacific. The higher you climb, the higher do 



SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 63 

the mountains, that were previously hidden from sight 
by the lower intervening crests, loom up and shut out 
the view westward. But these curved ridges, rising one 
behind the other, like seats in a cj^clopean amphitheatre, 
are in themselves a fascinating sight, especially in 
spring, when the hill-sides are green with high grass and 
abundant shrubbery. Looking down from this hill, we 
can see the large fish swimming about in the crystalline 
water, several hundred feet below us. To lie here on 
the grass, in the balmy sunshine, taking in the view and 
inhaling the ocean breeze, mingled with the floral per- 
fumes that rise around you, is the very luxury of exist- 
ence, and every deep draught of this air is a day added 
to one's life. Thanks to the breeze, no shade is needed, 
and thus all the healing virtues of the sun's rays can be 
utilized. 

Should the labor of climbing this steep hill be 
dreaded, equally romantic spots may be found by fol- 
lowing up the caiion or gulch which leads from the 
hotel into the midst of the hills by a gradual but steady 
ascent. The road follows a dry brook-bed, which prob- 
ably once in a while becomes a torrent, though heavy 
rains are rare here, even during the " rainy season." 
An endless variety of shrubs and flowers lines this road, 
becoming more rarely beautiful in color and shape the 
higher we rise. Climbing up one of the side gulches, I 
was frequently obliged to cut my way with my cane 
through bowers most gracefully built by the poison ivy 
(or oak), which is so abundant throughout California, 
afflicting some people, if they only pass near it, with a 
painful swelling of the face, while to others it is as 
harmless as is real oak or ivy. From one of these lovely 
bowers a huniming-bird arose and darted up into the air 



64 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

as fast and straight as a rocket, till almost out of sight ; 
then down again like a lump of lead ; then circling in 
a wide curve about me, liumming all the time like a 
spinning-wheel. To an observer who stands perfectly- 
motionless, these birds afford no end of amusement by 
their wonderful swiftness and curious caprices. Often, 
when I watered my flowers during the winter, one of 
them would hover over the stream from the hose, take 
a foot-bath for a minute, then alight on an orange-tree 
for a second, and return to the sport again and again. 
They are very abundant in California, these butterflies 
among birds, as if to atone for the rarity of real butter- 
flies, which is one of the most curious defects of this 
State ; for one would think that a country so crowded 
with wild flowers would be the very paradise of butter- 
flies. Another kind of bird very abundant on Catalina 
Island is the quail, which, even without the advantage 
of color, vies with the humming-bird in beauty. Being 
seldom hunted, the quail are much tamer than on the 
mainland. One couple had a nest in a cactus bush not 
more than a hundred yards behind the hotel, where they 
remained undisturbed till a heartless young idiot from 
Los Angeles killed them with his shotgun. Walking 
up the caiion, one or two pairs repeatedly ran along 
leisurely in the middle of the roadbed, not a hundred 
feet ahead of me. At other times I came within a few 
yards of them before they saw me, for the ground in 
many places is covered with a velvety kind of grass, 
noiseless and delightful to walk upon. Far up the 
gradually narrowing gulches Ave come upon patches of 
lovely maiden-hair and other ferns, guiding us to tiny 
brooklets of clear cool water. Water is not abundant 
on the island so far as explored, and last summer only 



SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 65 

one of the springs near Avalon — that which supplies 
the village pipes — was alive. But it would be easy to 
secure all the water desired by damming up one of the 
gulches. 

The most serious drawback to the delightful rambles 
on Catalina Island is that one always has to keep an eye 
on the possibility of running across a " rattler." The first 
evening of my two weeks' sojourn I was sitting on the 
hotel piazza, drinking in the salubrious night air, when 
the conversation of a group of men attracted my atten- 
tion. Two of them were representatives of an English 
syndicate who were trying to buy the island, and have 
since succeeded, I believe, in bagging it for six hundred 
thousand dollars. The reason why one of these ubiqui- 
tous English syndicates (who seem to "want the earth" 
at present) coveted Catalina Island, is, according to the 
Los Angeles papers, to be found in the fact that it 
abounds in silver ore, which, though not rich enough to 
be worked in this country, where labor is so expensive, 
might be carried as ballast in vessels returning to 
England, and profitably reduced to metal there. The 
agents were interviewing a resident as to the advantages 
and disadvantages of the island, and one of them, inter 
alia., asked about snakes. " Not a snake on the island," 
was the answer. This was such curious and interest- 
ing information that I jotted it down in my notebook. 
Next morning after breakfast I took a walk up one of 
the hills, and just after passing a little wooden build- 
ing, I came across a young Englishman in a white 
flannel suit, who was cautiously prying along the road 
on both sides. " Lost anything ? " I asked. " No," was 
the reply; "I am looking for rattlesnakes. Killed one a 
few days ago right here, and don't like them quite so 



66 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

near my house." He was greatly amused when I tokl 
him how his countrymen had been "stuffed" at the hotel 
on the preceding evening. " The island swarms with 
snakes," he said, "■ They have never been interfered 
with, and have been allowed to multiply for several cen- 
turies, until they have become as abundant as ground- 
squirrels. Only the other day a party moved their tent 
away from a spot over on that hill because a snake 
family had established a previous claim on the neigh- 
borhood. However, you need not be afraid of walking 
along the canon or up the grassy sides of the hills, for 
they avoid the grass and haunt only the naked rocky 
hill-sides, exposed to the full glare of the sun, where 
they can be easily seen." 

I soon found that the simplest way to steer clear of 
rattlers is to hunt for them. I spent several hours look- 
ing for them in the most likely places, because I wanted 
to study the nature of the beast and get a few rattles, 
but not one did I see. There is no doubt, however, 
that they exist in large numbers, and the sooner they 
are exterminated, the better for the future prospects of 
the island as an all-the-3'ear-round health resort. How- 
ever, it must be said that there are few instances of men 
having been killed by snakes in California, while the 
dreaded scorpions, centipedes, and tarantulas are hardly 
more dangerous than hornets. According to Dr. Weir 
JNIitchell, who has made a special study of this subject, 
a rattlesnake bite in the extremities rarely causes death 
in this country, and he has known of nine dogs being 
bitten by as many different snakes, and but two died. 
He considers them a much-maligned animal, and says 
they have always seemed to him averse to striking. 
This agrees with what the late T. S. Van Dyke says in 



SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 67 

his " Southern California " : " At least a dozen times I 
have either been about to step directly on one, or have 
stepped over it, or else have set my foot directly beside 
it. In no case have I been struck at by them, though I 
have made them strike very savagely at a stick." " Hunt- 
ers take no precautions against them, and children run 
bare-legged through the bush everywhere without think- 
ing of them." Still, the nervous might carry in their 
pocket some permanganate of potash, which Dr. Mitchell 
considers the most potent external antidote, that has 
saved many lives. 

It might be worth while to introduce on Catalina 
Island some of the " road-runners " so common on the 
mainland, — a bird looking somewhat like a large pheas- 
ant, which runs along the roads, seldom rises on its 
wings, and is said to live on snakes, lizards, centipedes, 
and similar delicacies, and is nevertheless pronounced a 
good gastronomic morsel by those who have the courage 
to eat it. It might also be good business policy to 
import a few of the Arizona cowboys, who, after making 
the rattlers strike, catch them by the tail and swing 
them like a whip till the head flies off. But cowboys are 
objectionable neighbors on other grounds, and it would 
be better, all things considered, to give the freedom of 
the village to a dozen pigs, who would soon make rat- 
tlers scarce about camp, and who might be allowed to 
run wild and clean out the whole island. 

There would be a precedent for this in the wild goats 
which were turned loose by Vancouver on this and 
other Pacific islands, a hundred years ago, and which 
have now multiplied to thousands. These wild goats 
form one of the most characteristic attractions of Cata- 
lina. They are hunted on horseback, and are often seen 



68 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

in large herds, feeding along the hill-sides. It is not 
very easy to get near enough for a shot, but still one or 
two are generally brought back as the result of a morn- 
ing's ride ; and the next day there is always " venison 
with jelly " on the hotel bill of fare. If it were a little 
more juicy and less insipid in taste (the young ones only 
are eaten), it might deserve that name. Barring an 
occasional hunt, these wild goats lead an ideal life, 
which the happiest mortal must envy them, — no wild 
beasts to prey on them, and plenty of grass-grown hill- 
sides to climb and browse upon. They are more fortu- 
nate than their cousins, the wild goats and half-wild 
sheep on the neighboring island of San Clemente, which, 
though almost as large as Catalina, is more barren, and 
is said to have no water at all except the heavy morning 
dews which the animals sip in with their breakfast of 
wild clover. Imagine a goat living on dew-drops and 
clover leaves ! What becomes of Puch and the tomato- 
can theory ? 

To those who find goat-hunting on horseback too 
arduous and risky a sport, Catalina offers a variety of 
entertainments in its bathing facilities and the rare 
opportunities for botanic, mineralogic, and archwologic 
research, besides fishing, watching the pelicans and fly- 
ing-fish, and visiting the seal rocks. Bathing in the 
placid bay lacks the excitement given by plunges into 
foaming breakers, and it must be admitted that small 
pebbles do not make as agreeable a beach as sand. Yet 
those who can swim will enjoy a bath here as much as 
anywhere. There is a drawback in the thought that 
only sixty miles to the south, at San Diego, a young 
man, while in bathing a few years ago, suddenly disap- 
peared, being doubtless carried off by a shark. How- 



I 



SAJSTTA CATALINA ISLAND. 69 

ever, no shark has ever been known to eat more than 
one man at a time, so that if several go in together, each 
one has a fair chance of escape. Small sharks are occa- 
sionally seen in the bay of Avalon, but no accident has 
ever happened. Bathers are occasionally stung by a 
kind of animal called a stingaree, which causes a wound 
that must be cauterized, and is said to be almost as dan- 
gerous as a rattlesnake bite. But then we cannot 
expect to have everything arranged to suit us. 

The charms of Gatalina's flowers to lovers of beauty 
and botany I have already referred to, but I must not 
forget to mention that the thrill of delight on coming 
across the fu'st Mariposa lily will mark an epoch in their 
experience. Amateur mineralogists may go prospecting 
for silver ore. In some places they will find patches of 
coal-black soil, besides igneous rocks in abundance, and 
other evidences of former volcanic agency. But the 
greatest treat awaits the archaeologist, who may dig in 
the site of the graveyards, or the former village, part 
way up the main canon, for Indian relics. The objects 
most frequently found are the pestles and mortars of 
various sizes, in which the squaws ground their grain 
and acorns, and strings of shells. These shells were 
used by the Indians as money, and Catalina Island 
was the place where most of them were found. The 
Yankee, who has succeeded the Inchan at Avalon, still 
makes money out of these shells. There are a number 
of varieties strewn along the beach ; but the largest and 
most beautiful is the abalone shell, the inner surface of 
which is often equal to the finest mother-of-pearl, while 
the outer surface can be made equally attractive by 
persistent polishing. The professional abalone-hunters, 
who have their stores at Avalon and sliip large quan- 



70 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

titles to the East, to be made into buttons, jealous of 
competition, will tell you unblushingly in spring that 
these animals are only caught in the winter ; but after 
a low tide you may see them rowing in with a whole 
boat-load of them. It is interesting to watch these men 
at work. One of them plies the oars, and the other has 
a long pole to stick under the unsuspecting abalone, 
which he twists off the rock and hauls in ; whereupon the 
search for another begins. The Californians seem to 
consider the abalone possibly useful as well as ornamen- 
tal ; for there is a tradition (probably manufactured by 
an ingenious Catalinian) that a Chinaman, one day 
while bathing, put his foot under one of these shells, 
and was held till miserably drowned by the returning 
tide. If this story becomes known at Sacramento, a 
law will probably be passed forbidding abalone-fishing. 
Besides serving as a trap for ^longolians, the abalone 
has also a gastronomic use ; for it makes the finest soup 
I have ever eaten, — superior to the best terrapin. 

Of the fi..h which abound here the best flavored are 
the large sardines, of which a wdiole boat-load is easily 
caught with one haul of the net. There are literally 
miles and millions of them along the coast, and it would 
doubtless be a profitable industry to can them, although 
the oil would have to be imported, for California olive 
oil is too much in demand and too exj^ensive to be used 
for such a purpose. But there is a serious objection to 
these sardines, — they spoil the fishing ; for the large 
fish have their Sardinian breakfast so handy that they 
refuse to bite unless tempted by a special delicacy, such 
as a piece of lobster. In April even this ruse often fails; 
for then the water is filled with spawn, and when a fish 
has spawn to eat, he turns up his nose even at lobster. 



SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 71 

To one solely intent on catching the fish, it must be most 
provoking to see hundreds of them, of all sizes, swim- 
ming about his tempting crawfish bait without paying 
any more attention to it than if it were a pebble. 

But the lover of nature can here enjoy scenes which 
make him oblivious of the ignoble excitement of catch- 
ing fish. Catalina Island has one of the most enchant- 
ing salt-water aquariums in the world. Row out into 
the ocean a few hundred yards, and you will get a 
glimpse of a submarine garden more wonderful than 
anything to be seen on shore. The water is calm and 
as clear as crystal, showing objects fifty or seventy feet 
below as distinctly as if you could touch them. Kelp, 
anemones, and seaweeds, green, purple, and yellowish, 
and of various forms, wave about slowly in the current. 
Abalone shells cling to the rocks, and jelly-fish float 
along, expanding and contracting rythmically. The 
waving seaweeds are covered everywhere with a bluish 
mass looking like jelly. It is the spawn, the favorite 
food of the hundreds of fish in sight, whose life, swim- 
ming calmly to and fro, seems to be a perpetual picnic, 
like that of the goats on the green hill-sides. But they 
have their enemies everywhere, — in the water, in the 
air, and on shore. When the spawn is gone and the 
sardines have migrated, the fisherman and the tourist 
cast their hooks and pull in dozens in a morning ; 
although once or twice an hour they are surprised by a 
twenty or thirty pound monster who swallows the hook 
and simply walks away with it, heedless of the tiny line 
which seeks to hold him. The chief excitement of 
ocean fishing lies in this, that one never knows what 
kind of fish one is going to land next. More than 
twenty varieties are caught here, including rock-cod, 



72 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

sheepshead, whitefish, barracuda, mackerel, etc. The 
most fascinating of all is a bright red fish which haunts 
the rocks , as beautiful as the Cliinese goldfishes kept 
in glass globes, but very much larger. It is almost 
too beautiful to kill, but it has an ugly mouth, and 
is good to eat, so up it comes en route to the frying- 
pan. 

The fisherman is the least formidable enemy of these 
fish. The pelican and the seal are wholesale butchers 
in comparison. The large pelicans, with their huge, 
ugly bills, with which they can scoop up a dozen sar- 
dines or smelts at one fell swoop, are very abundant at 
Catalina Island, but at the present rate of extermina- 
tion by tourists they will soon be scarce. Their wing- 
bones make good and novel pipe-stems, and their skin, 
with the soft white and gray feathers, is ornamental ; 
and that settles their fate. They are very stupid birds, 
and slow, and not a bit afraid of human beings, which 
makes them easy victims. Tourists kill them from the 
beach or on boats, and after skinning them, throw the 
carcass overboard, where it is immediately pounced upon 
and disputed by a dozen greedy gulls. The seals occa- 
sionally visit Avalon Bay on their fishing excursions, 
ingeniously sAvimming a dozen abreast in a semicircle, 
and driving the fish before them till they are cornered. 
Sometimes the terrified fish, in their eager flight, jump 
on the beach, where they may be picked up alive. No 
one should fail to pay a visit to the seal rocks and see 
these creatures " at home." The rocks are at the south- 
ern extremity of the island, about six miles from 
Avalon, and can be reached by row-boat, or by the steam- 
tug wliich almost daily takes down a party. A row- 
boat is preferable, because the seals allow it to approach 



SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 73 

nearer than a puffing tug. On the way down observe 
the splendid precipitous rocks, to the sides of which 
some wild goats may occasionally be seen clinging like 
flies. The boat passes projecting rocks and rugged 
promontories, on which a few pelicans and seals are 
basking ; and between them are several large curved 
beaches of smooth pebbles, three or four feet high, and 
fifty feet wide, to which every winter's storms add a 
foot or two. As we approach the southern end of the 
island, the swell of the outer Pacific becomes percepti- 
ble, and at the same time the seal rocks rise up before 
us. The hundi'eds of sea-lions lying on them appear 
to be fast asleep ; but suddenly a sentinel raises up his 
head, watches us a moment, and then utters a cry of 
alarm. Immediately the whole army are awake, and 
gradually assume an erect position, barking hoarsely as 
we approach them. Among them are some formidable 
monsters, large and heavy as oxen, and were they not 
known to be perfectly harmless, it would seem a most 
hazardous undertaking to row right up to them. With 
every stroke of the oars they become more excited and 
noisy, and finally, when we are within forty or fifty feet 
of the rock, they plunge headlong and pell-mell into the 
water. For a moment they are invisible, and then they 
are seen collecting in a body in a sort of pool between 
the rocks, sticking up their snake-like necks and heads, 
and barking louder than ever, the younger ones bleat- 
ing just like sheep. But gradually, as we move away 
a little, and throw out our fishing-lines, they become 
convinced that our intentions are honorable, and then, 
with mau}^ a groan and snap at their neighbors, they 
climb back clumsily to the summit of the rocks, the 
biggest ones securing the best places. Seal rocks are 



74 SANTA CATALINA ISLAND. 

always good fisliing-ground ; but why is it that the fish 
do not learn to avoid places where they hear the loud 
barking of their voracious enemies? In this respect 
their instincts appear to fail them. 



vn. 

SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

A DAM UNDER A RIVER-BED BEANS AND CULTURE AN 

ESTHETIC TOWN BEAUTIFUL GARDENS SPANISHTOWN 

AND CHINATOWN THE MOJAVE DESERT ON THE WAY 

TO THE YOSEMITE A FINE STAGE RIDE FLORAL WON- 
DERS THE SIERRA SNOW-PLANT AND MARIPOSA LILIES 

RESEMBLANCE TO OREGON SCENERY DISCOVERY OF 

THE VALLEY THE YOSEMITE AND BRIDAL VEIL FALLS 

RAINBOW SPRAY EL CAPITAN AND MIRROR LAKE 

ORIGIN OF THE VALLEY YOSEMITE AS A LAKE GLA- 
CIER POINT AND OTHER EXCURSIONS THE BIG TREES 

IN THE MARIPOSA GROVE. 

There are two ways of reaching Santa Barbara from 
Los Angeles (or San Francisco), — either on a coast 
steamer or by the new railway branch from Saugns, 
about twenty-five miles north of Los Angeles, which 
was completed two or three years ago. For scenic 
reasons the latter route is preferable, as it takes us 
in succession over the lovely San Fernando Valley, 
through a mountain canon, and lastly, for almost thirty 
miles, along the edge of the ocean, thus exliibiting 
Nature in her three principal phases. Near San Fer- 
nando, which is a pretty and inviting place, may be seen 
one of the greatest curiosities in the State, showing what 
strange methods are sometimes resorted to in Southern 

75 



76 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEIVnTE. 

California to secure water for irrigation. It is a granite 
dam, fifty feet deep, which brings to the surface the 
water of a subterranean river. Only three feet of the 
dam are above ground, the rest being sunk down to 
the bed-rock, so as to force up into the surface-pipes a 
stream of water fifteen feet deep and forty feet wide. An- 
other curiosity of San Fernando is a small boy who, while 
the train stops, walks up and down with a basket on his 
arm, shouting incessantly, " Nice sweet oranges, five for 
a nickel, eight for a dime I " 

Soon after leaving San Fernando the train plunges 
into a canon, where we get a near view of the foothills and 
mountains which had so often aroused our curiosity and 
a desire to make their acquaintance. They are of the 
most diverse forms and colors, now rugged, gray, and for- 
bidding, and again femininely rounded, green, and hand- 
some. At Newhall and beyond we greet the sight of 
beautiful oak groves on the foothills, — real, natural, unir- 
rigated shade trees, with cows resting under them. The 
ocean is reached at Santa Buenaventura, which is get- 
ting to be a seaport doing a considerable export business 
in grain, oil, pork, flaxseed, honey, and, above all, beans. 
The region between this town and Santa Barbara is re- 
markably favorable to the growth of beans, 113,700 
sacks having been raised in 1887, as compared to only 
35,000 sacks of corn, the next liighest item ; and we 
are not a bit surprised, therefore, to read in the guide- 
book that " Santa Barbara prides herself on being more 
aesthetic and cultured than her somewhat plebeian sis- 
ters, San Diego and Los Angeles." Hereafter it will 
be impossible to doubt the Boston-baked-beans theory. 

There is unquestionably an air of refinement and good 
taste about Santa Barbara which impresses one as favor- 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 77 

ably as the scenic and climatic attractions. It is a sub- 
stantially built, most picturesquely situated town of four 
or five tliousand inhabitants, traversed by a long, wide 
business street in which are many elegant stores which 
at once indicate it to be a great resort of tourists ; and 
what predisposes one especially in favor of this place is 
the clean and noiseless asphalt paving of the streets, 
which promises rest and refreshing sleep to the victims 
of nervousness and insomnia, — a pavement which if intro- 
duced by legal enactment in every town and city in the 
country, would reduce the income of physicians twenty- 
five per cent. But as there are few but physicians who 
know this fact, we of course hear very little about it. 
The Arlington is one of the most comfortable and best 
managed hotels in California, and from its cupola a good 
view of the town and surroundings may be obtained. 
To the west is the Pacific, bounded by the semicircular 
harbor, which is invaded by a long pier, — the coolest 
place in town. Then, in a wider semicircle, comes the 
town, half buried amidst the Peruvian pepper and 
other fine shade trees, extending up to the foothills, 
behind which rise the green and gray snowless moun- 
tains. 

Santa Barbara is not a commercial place, there being 
no large ships in the harbor, and its trade only local. 
More than any other place in Southern California it 
gives the impression of being merely a town of quiet 
homes and a pleasure and health resort for tourists and 
invalids. Though Indian remains must be scarce by this 
time, there are here, for the benefit of this class of visi- 
tors, a large number of curiosity stores, whose goods 
are probably manufactured in San Francisco, like the 
" Indian relics " and curios sold in Alaska. The old Mis- 



78 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

sion, however, is genuine, and attracts many visitors. A 
pleasant resort is the free library, well stocked, and the 
reading-room, which is always cool, but has the objec- 
tionable feature of commanding so fine a \dew that it 
requires a special effort to prevent the eyes from con- 
stantly wandering away from the pages of the books. 

The gardens of Santa Barbara are probably the finest 
and most varied in the State, and nowhere else did I find 
myself so frequently obliged to stand still and peep over 
fences at some new species or varieties of flowers or flow- 
ering shrubs and trees. Persia itself can hardly excel 
Santa Barbara in roses, three hundred varieties of which 
are found here. " At one of our annual rose fairs we 
have seen one hundred and fifty-six varieties of roses, 
all cut from one garden that morning," says the Rev. 
A. W. Jackson; in "Barbariana"; and the wonderful 
cosmopolitanism of California soil and climate is indi- 
cated by the assertion that "■ trees native to Peru, Chili, 
Australia, China, Japan, New Zealand, North Africa, 
South Africa, Southern and Central Europe, Southern 
and Western Asia, and our own Southern and Northeast- 
ern States, are found growing in it side by side." 

There are years when the thermometer does not rise 
above 85° or sink below 35°, and for this climate Santa 
Barbara is partly indebted to the four mountainous 
islands (similar to Catalina) whicli lie twenty miles or 
more to the westward and shut out the cold trade winds. 
Fogs, however, are abundant in spring, and there is an 
occasional scorching day or two, or a dust-storm ; but 
these blemishes, as Mr. Jackson cheerfully remarks, 
amount to no more than "the freckles on the face of a 
young lady, wlio is beautiful and delightful notwith- 
standing." Like every other town of over two thou- 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSE^NIITE. 79 

sand ill this part of the State, Santa Barbara has its 
Spanishtown and Chinatown, but with this difference, 
that there is said to be a remnant here of the better class 
of Spaniards who formerly owned the State and lived 
ill large adobe houses, while in other towns little now 
remains but a handful of the poorer classes, aptly charac- 
terized as " Greasers." Though poor, they are not always 
honest, according to report ; and I have myself seen 
young girls enticing a neighbor's chickens with a hand- 
ful of wheat into their house, whence they never issued 
again ; and sometimes they catch them with fish-hooks. 
The men make a precarious living by taking care of 
cattle and horses or doing some agricultural work. 
They speak a very corrupt Spanish, and live in a most 
primitive way in one-room shanties raised a foot or two 
above the ground. The children run about barefooted 
all the year round, and the women are ignorant of the 
uses of flannel, their dress consisting simply of a calico 
wrapper : hence it is not surprising that, as a promi- 
nent physician informed me, a large proportion of 
them succumb to the sudden changes of temperature, 
and die of consumption, — the very disease against 
which this climate, with proper precautions, is so potent. 
It is a significant fact that although an American 
occasionally marries one of these Mexican women, it 
hardly ever happens that an American woman marries 
a Mexican. Thus disease, emigration to Mexico, and 
intermarriage are gradually decimating the oNIexicaiis, 
and in two or three decades few will be left in Southern 
California. It is a sign of the times that at Santa Bar- 
bara the Chinese are gradually invading Spanishtown. 
Say what they will, the Californians at harvest time are 
glad of all the Chinamen they can get; nor are there 



80 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

many who refuse to patronize the Chinese vegetable man, 
who is a feature of every phice. Every morning he comes 
round with a wagon-load of assorted vegetables Vv'liich 
he sells at such an absurdly low price that even farmers 
find it more economical to buy than to raise their vege- 
tables. Five or ten cents will supply a family of three 
or four with choice vegetables for two meals ; and the 
man always throws in a bunch of celery or some other 
thing which in the East would cost as much as is here 
paid for the whole. But John can afford it. All he 
asks of life is his daily ration of rice, a portion of a 
room to sleep in, and a brisk sea-breeze to fly his musical 
kite, which he watches and listens to by the hour with 
an expression of genuine enjoyment. 

In coming to Santa Barbara, the last fifty miles were 
made in the darkness, so that the saline breeze alone 
gave evidence that for almost two hours the train skirts 
the ocean. In returning, we take the morning train, to 
connect at Saugus with the north-bound Los Angeles 
train for Yosemite, and thus get a chance to enjoy this 
ride along the ocean, which is veiy different from the 
stretch between San Diego and Oceansidc, — there, a 
level, sandy beach, and the mountains at a distance; 
here, a mountain chain with its foot in the breakers, 
leaving hardly room enough for the train to wind along, 
the piles occasionally lapped by the waves. Between 
Saugus and Mojave numerous large bee ranches can be 
seen from the train, though there seems no superabun- 
dance of flowers. 

As we enter the Mojave Desert, — which is a real 
desert, by reason of its sandy soil, and not simply in 
appearance, owing to the lack of irrigation, — the most 
conspicuous objects 9,re the large yucca cactus-trees, 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 81 

rising to a height of forty feet and more, with large, 
thick branches, which furnish fibre for paper. On all 
sides isolated, naked hills, and clusters of hills with 
curious vertical water-furrows, rise as abruptly out of 
the level, sandy floor as Catalina does from the Pacific. 
By and by darkness closes in, and we miss the experi- 
ence of passing through the seventeen tunnels and see- 
ing the famous " Loop," where the train crosses its own 
track about eighty feet above. All that we remember 
of this region is the dismal howling of the desert wind, 
which is cold enough to make blankets comfortable even 
in a Pullman sleeper, though in the daytime the tem- 
perature in this region may have been anywhere between 
100° and 120°. 

At 3.30 the porter wakes us, and at 4.10 we are 
dropped in the midst of a prairie, a quarter of a mile 
beyond the Berenda station, whence a branch road is 
to take us in the direction of the Yosemite Valley. 
The short ride to Raymond, the terminus of the branch 
railway, is over a level region densely inhabited by 
jack-rabbits, who are used as targets by pistolled tour- 
ists in the freight car. Perhaps it is hardly correct 
to say that this region is level; for there are thou- 
sands of curious little round hills several feet high 
and fifteen or twenty in diameter. They are locally 
known as "hog-wallows," but their origin is unknown. 
At Raymond, those of the passengers who had been wise 
enough to telegraph a week in advance for outside or 
box seats on the stages take possession of them with a 
feeling of proud superiority over their less prudent fel- 
low-travellers. But there are stages and stages, and an 
inside seat in a new stage, with good springs, is prefer- 
able to an outside seat on an old rickety stage, at least 



82 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

for those who would rather lose some of the scenery 
en route than be "seasick" all the way, as not a few 
ladies are ; for the road is rough and the pace rapid, 
regardless of holes and bumps. Four horses are at- 
tached to the stage, which are changed seven times 
before we reach the Valley, next day at noon. In the 
height of the season this company employs three hun- 
dred horses. The ascent begins at once ; mountain air 
and scenery surround us, and become more inspiriting 
and inspiring in a gradual crescendo^ till the climax is 
reached at Inspiration Point, just above the Valley. 
The vegetation changes every few hours and becomes 
constantly more fascinating. Large, stately oak-trees are 
everywhere, adorned with pendent branches of mistle- 
toe as large as beehives. The stage passes under some 
of these, which leads a passenger to remark that it is 
lucky for young ladies that this route is not open dur- 
ing Christmas week. 

Grub Gulch is the suggestive name of a small place 
we stop at for a few minutes ; and further on, while the 
horses are being changed, passengers have a chance to 
inspect the reducing works of the Gambetta gold mine, 
the flume of which, conducting water from an enormous 
distance, runs along the stage road for hours. We stop 
for lunch at Grant's Sulphur Springs, a wild, romantic 
mountain resort, tlie proprietor of which built a stretch 
of road costing twelve thousand dollars, on condition 
that the stages should pass his way and stop for lunch. 
Supper is served at the Wawona Hotel, where we spend 
the night. This place has its. own attractions in the 
shape of a fine water-fall, a lake, a trout-stream. Hill's 
picture gallery, and an Alaskan bear in a cage near the 
river. 



SANTA BAKBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 83 

It may seem strange that a bear should be imported 
from Alaska to the Sierra, which has plenty of its own. 
But they are less easily caught here, and avoid the 
haunts of men. We saw none on the way, nor any 
other animals except squirrels and a few birds, among 
which the pretty but unmusical bluejays predominated. 
One passenger said that he caught a glimpse of two 
deer, but could not prove his assertion. Scenery sim- 
ilar to that of the preceding day, only grander and more 
of it. There may be mountains in other parts of x\mer- 
ica to match these, but nowhere such a bewildering 
profusion and unique beauty of flowers, shrubs, and 
trees. The driver showed no disposition to stop and give 
us a chance to pick these floral novelties ; and wisely, 
for we should have never reached the Valley if he 
had. An amateur botanist, on foot or on horseback, 
would require a week to get there. It is not only those 
fringing the road that can be enjoyed from the stage, 
but those at a distance, too ; for they grow in large blue, 
yellow, white, or red patches, looking like irregular gar- 
den beds, resting cosily under a shade tree, or exposed 
on a sunny ledge or hill-side, where they sometimes 
present the appearance of gayly colored rocks. Even 
Southern California has nothing to match this ; for 
although there may be a still greater profusion of 
flowers, there are not so many varieties as here. Bleed- 
ing hearts, larkspurs, and lupins in all colors, yellow and 
white violets, snapdragons, fragrant California lilac, 
honeysuckles, tiger-lilies, etc., etc., carpet the ground 
with the luxuriance of weeds. Fortunately those that 
are most peculiar to the region are also the most abun- 
dant ; namely, the Indian pinks (with fringed scarlet 
petals, looking like groups of tiny Japanese parasols), 



84 SANTA BARBAKA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

Indian paint-brushes, Mariposa lilies, and snow-plants. 
The long-stemmed, tulip-shaped, white and j-ellowish 
Mariposa lilies are especially numerous; and when one 
of the passengers jumped out as the stage climbed up a 
hill and brought back a handful, two of the ladies ex- 
claimed simultaneously, after glancing at the curiously 
marked downy inside, " Why, they look just like but- 
terflies ! " — which shows that they are well named ; for 
mariposa is Spanish for butterfly. 

But the gem of the collection is the Sieri-a snow- 
plant, which is of such striking and unique appearance, 
that even those wdio do not ordinarily care much for 
flowers cannot repress an exclamation of rapturous admi- 
ration when they first see one. It is called snow-plant be- 
cause it grows only at an elevation of from four to eight 
thousand feet, while the last snow-patches are melting : 
but the name is misleading, as one expects from it a 
white flower ; whereas, the small, bell-shaped flowers, as 
well as the scaly, brittle, thick stems around which they 
cluster irregularly, in great profusion, are all one red 
blush of blood color. They push themselves like mush- 
rooms out of the ground, displacing the layer of dry 
needles under the fir-trees; and the mode of their 
growth and origin is, I believe, still something of a 
mystery to botanists. Of the shrubs I will mention 
only the dogwood, whose blossoms are as pure white 
and as large as in Oregon ; the tough leather-plant, with 
yellow flowers, similar to those of the dogwood; and 
the manzanita, so called from its berries, which look 
like little apples. On account of its beautiful, smooth, 
brown rind, marked like alligator skin, it is much cov- 
eted for canes, and every young man hunts a few hours 
for a good specimen ; but though the bush is over-abun- - 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 85 

dant, straight sticks are so rare that they are sold for 
five doUars on the spot. 

After spending a winter in treeless Southern Califor- 
nia, the sight of the dense and stately Sierra forests is as 
agreeable as that of the rare mountain shrubs and flow- 
ers. As we ascend higher and higher, the change in 
the forest trees is similar to that which we encounter in 
going northward towards Oregon and Washington. At 
a place where the oaks are still abundant, we notice two 
isolated pine-trees on a hill-side ; these become more and 
more abundant, till, in the higher regions, they become 
replaced by firs, often prettily draped with yellow moss 
(which completely hides the branches, and makes the 
whole tree yellow), many of them dotted with innumer- 
able holes in which woodpeckers insert their acorns, — 
so tightly that neither squirrel nor bluejay can get them 
out. The resemblance to Oregon scenery is heightened 
by the numerous burnt stumps, the mosses, and the 
ferns. Higher and higher we creep, and more and 
more magnificent becomes the scenic outlook over the 
mountain crests rising behind each other in endless suc- 
cession like the waves of a stormy sea, with an occa- 
sional glimpse far down into the yellow, sunburnt San 
Joaquin A^alley, and the Coast Range, one hundred and 
fifty miles away, like a faint silhouette. In this howling 
wilderness of desolate forests and mountains, which it 
takes the stage almost two days to traverse on a smooth 
road, the thought occurs again and again how in the 
world any one ever discovered this Yosemite Valley, 
hidden away in the heart of the Sierras, to which no 
arteries led them. Had it not been for the pursuit of 
that band of Indians by Captain Boling, in 1851, under 
the guidance of two Indian chiefs, it is possible that this 



86 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

gigantic gorge of the Merced River might still answer 
to the description given of it at that time by one of 
the friendly chiefs : " In this deep valley one Indian is 
more than ten white men. The hiding-places are many. 
They will throw rocks down on the white men if any 
should come near them. The other tribes dare not make 
war upon them ; for they are lawless like the grizzlies, 
and as strong. We are afraid to go to this valley, for 
there are many witches there." 

Once discovered by white men, the Valley was sure to 
become world-famed ere long, though the soldiers and 
gold-hunters who first saw it did not realize that they 
had come across the most wonderful collection of water- 
falls, precipitous cliffs, fantastic peaks, and other scenic 
features, to be found in a similar compass anywhere in 
the world. In approaching a spot which, although dis- 
covered less than forty years ago, is already as well 
known the world over as Niagara or Mont Blanc, exjjec- 
tation is of course at fever heat. What adds to the 
excitement, is the knowledge that the first bird's-eye- 
view of the whole Valley which we get on this route 
is also the finest. It is at Inspiration Point, where the 
driver gave us just two minutes to take in the most 
famous scene in California. But these stage-drivers 
have sad experiences. Ours told me how some time 
previously he had stopped his stage at this point, and 
how every one was seemingly wrapped in admiration 
too deep for speech, when a lady on the back seat sud- 
denly broke the silence by exclaiming, " Oh, my ! I 
wonder why they have no lace curtains at the Wawona 
Hotel ! " 

It is of the Valley as a whole onlj" that one gets the 
finest impression from this point; the individual features, 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 87 

the giant precipitous wall of smooth granite, known as 
El Capitan, and especially the water-falls, do not reveal 
their full grandeur till we are directly beneath them. 
As the stage winds down into the Valley, such a bewil- 
dering variety of scenic surprises crowd each other that 
one should have as many eyes as an insect to take them 
all in ; and it is amusing to see all the passengers point- 
ing at once in different directions to call attention to 
something that particularly strikes their fancy, while 
each one is too busy to heed the others. The stage trav- 
erses almost the whole Valley, which is over six miles 
in length, landing the majority of the tourists at the 
State-built Stoneman House, although some stop at Bar- 
nard's, a mile less distant, directly opposite the triple 
Yosemite Falls, which are what a reporter would call 
a " three-decker." These falls, as well as the Bridal 
Veil, and others less famous, are seen from the stage as 
it traverses the Valley ; but of course they want a whole 
afternoon at the very least for proper inspection; so, 
after washing off the abundant Yosemite dust, and par- 
taking of lunch, we hire a carriage or saddle-horse, and 
retrace our steps through the Valley, making our first 
stop at the Yosemite Falls. In coming up the Valley 
the driver had asked us how wide we thought the 
Yosemite creek was at the height where it falls over 
the edge. It looks about a foot wide, and the guesses 
ranged from two to ten feet. "Sixty feet wide," he 
replied. Our new driver made it forty feet, and on con- 
sulting Professor Whitney's " Yosemite Guide-Book " 
(which still remains by far the most graphic and reliable 
account of the Valley ever written, but of which it is 
absolutely impossible to find a copy in the book-market, 
though for years there has been a great demand for it — 



88 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEAUTE. 

a rare instance of publishers' stupidity) we found that 
he makes it only twenty feet in width and two deep, 
but still sufficient to furnish from half a million to a 
million and a half cubic feet of water in an hour to form 
the falls. Yet it is not so much by its volume that the 
Yosemite Falls imposes as by its unequalled height. 
The upper fall has a descent of fifteen hundred feet; the 
middle, of six hundred and twenty-six ; and the lower, 
of four hundred ; making together a water-fall (for they 
are almost in a vertical line) of over twenty-six hundred 
feet, or moro than half a mile — sixteen times as high 
as Niagara. 

With an umbrella or rubber coat one can get quite 
near the foot of the lower falls, and enjoy the spectacle of 
the spray, and of the rainbow which forever hovers over 
it, like a circle of humming-birds. To the left of the 
falls is a sort of Cave of the Winds, whence a strong 
blast is forced on the upper part of the descending water, 
swaying it to and fro several feet, and producing the 
occasional effect of a lateral curve. Indeed, the aspect 
of the falls changes as constantly as the expression on a 
human face, and one might visit it scores of times with- 
out seeing it exactly as it was before. 

Having given as much time as possible to these falls, 
we continue our trip down the same side of the Valley, to 
the right of the clear and rapid Merced River, till we come 
under the shadow of El Capitan, the summit of which is 
thirty-three hundred feet straight overhead — almost 
seven times as high as the highest European cathedral. 
A single perpendicular wall of this height would make 
this rock one of the wonders of the world ; but here are 
two such walls, half a mile in length, smooth as marble, 
meeting at a right angle, which makes " The Captain " 



SANTA BARBAKA AND THE YOSEMITE. 89 

an absolutely unique sight : " Sublimity materialized in 
granite," as Hutchinson puts it. Vast as this rock seemed 
from Inspiration Point, one must walk or drive along 
its base fully to realize its grandeur and sublimity. 
" The whole of New York," exclaimed an enthusiastic 
companion, " might have been quarried out of that rock 
without making a damaging impression on it ! " The 
smooth surface is in one place darkened by what seems 
a young fir-tree a few feet high, but which is said to be 
an old tree over a hundred feet high. How it ever got 
a foothold and nourishment half-way up this naked 
rock, is a mystery. Even a tree, one would think, 
should become dizzy and lose its balance in such a 
situation. 

Below El Capitan the Valley gradually contracts into 
a canon, " not having the U shape of the Yosemite, but 
the usual V shape of California valleys." The descent 
is extraordinarily abrupt, and the Merced River rushes 
and tumljles alongf in a continuous headlonof current 
almost as wild and impetuous as the Niagara Rapids. 
High up on the steep right wall of the caiion we see 
the Milton road winding upwards like a white thread. 
Our downward road continues as far as the Cascade 
Falls, which, though they would elsewhere be regarded 
as stupendous, here seem something of an anticlimax 
after the Yosemite Falls. 

Not so with the Bridal Veil Fall, which we next visit, 
after returning as far as El Capitan and crossing the 
river to the other side of the valley. Although only 
about one-third as high as the Yosemite Falls, the 
Bridal Veil has features which make it fully their equal 
in charm. The proper time to visit it is at five o'clock 
in the afternoon, on account of the beautifiil rainbows 



90 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

which then form in it; and it should be approached from 
the lower part of the Valley to see them to the best 
advantage. At first the rainbow hovers over the fall 
about two-thirds up towards its top ; but as we draw 
near, it gradually sinks down, till at last it seems to be 
dashed to pieces on the cascades at the foot of the falls, 
where it covers everything with a mass of irridescent 
spray, including the neighboring rocks and grass and 
bushes, to which it is wafted by the wind. Like the 
Yosemite, this fall is constantly swayed to and fro by 
the wind, as much as twenty feet from its perpendicular 
course, and to this fluttering in the wind of its spray- 
like mass it owes its name. The wind constantly 
changes, so that at one moment the inverted water- 
rockets descend on the right, and the loose spray on the 
left, and the next moment vice versa. Sometimes there 
are tivo water-falls, — one upward and one downward ; 
for when the wind blows towards the fall, a dense spray 
rises up to the very top of the fall, where it is blown 
over the ledge like a cloud. And what still more 
heightens the beauty of the scene is, that beyond the 
ledge nothing is visible, so that the water seems to 
tumble right out of the blue sky into the deep Valley. 

More than any rivals, the falls of the Yosemite Valley 
are constantly altered by changes in the wind, moon, 
and sunlight ; and it is this great variety of aspect, 
together with the unparalleled height, that constitutes 
their unique fascination and makes them superior to all 
other water-falls, except of course Niagara, M'hich is so 
utterly different in character as to be incomparable. 
Over the magnificent fall of the Yellowstone they have 
the advantage that they can be seen from below as well 
as from above. 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 91 

On the other hand, there is more charm of color in the 
Yellowstone cauon, the few spots and stains on the 
Yosemite walls being insignificant in comparison with 
the brilliant mosaic which covers the sides of the other 
canon. Nor are the j)eaks and pinnacles which tower over 
the lower walls of the Yosemite quite as fantastic and 
architecturally suggestive as those of the Yellowstone, 
or those that may be seen on approaching the Engadine 
from Chur, or leaving it for Como. And yet they are 
so superb that the Yosemite would be hardly less fre- 
quented were all its water-falls blotted out of existence 
— as they practically are late in summer, when there 
are no more snows to melt and replenish them. When 
Horace Greeley visited the Valley, the Yosemite Falls 
were momentarily so insignificant that he pronounced 
them " a humbug " ; yet his admiration of the Valley 
was none the less superlative. Cathedral Rock, the 
Three Brothers, The Sentinel, Sentinel Dome, Cloud's 
Rest, El Capitan, and North and South Domes form 
an assemblage of peaks sufficiently imposing to com- 
pensate the late summer tourist for ^the disappointment 
caused by the fickle water. Yet, if possible, Yosemite 
should be visited in May, not only because the water- 
falls are then at their best and the surrounding peaks 
still snow-capped, but because there may be, and often 
is, a belated snow-storm of a few days' duration, which 
gives an opportunity of seeing the Valley both in its 
summer and its winter aspects, in rapid succession. 

On the way back to the hotel a dispute arose in our 
carriage as to the origin of the Valley. Clarence King 
states in his "Mountaineering in the Sierra Nevada" 
that various markings which he noted had convinced 
him that at one time a glacier no less than a thousand 



92 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

feet deep had flowed through the Valley, occupying its 
entire bottom. The eminent Californian geologist, Mr. 
Muir, also has advocated the theory that the Valley 
was eroded by glaciers ; Avhereas, Professor Whitney 
emphatically declares that a more absurd theory was 
never advanced, and gives his reasons why he believes 
neither in the erosive action of ice, nor of aqueous ero- 
sion, as being the cause of the formation of the Valley, 
nor in its origin through a mountain fissure. He ad- 
vances the startling theory that Yosemite Valley was 
formed by the sinking down of its bottom to an un- 
known depth during a convulsive moment of the sur- 
rounding mountains. We tried to find reasons for or 
against these various theories in the aspect of the oppos- 
ing walls, to see if they would fit into each other, or 
show signs of erosion ; but of course where doctors 
differ it was not to be supjDOsed that amateurs could 
come to an agreement, so the question remains an open 
one. But there is a certain fascination in Professor 
Whitney's theory, with the corollary that at one time 
the cavity thus formed " was, undoubtedly, occupied by 
water, forming a lake of unsurpassed beauty and grand- 
eur, until quite a recent epoch." Beautiful as the 
present floor of the Valley is, with its great variety of 
grasses, flowers, shrubs, and trees, one cannot help 
fancying that a Lake Yosemite, on which one might 
approach the foot of the water-falls in a boat by moon- 
light, would be more romantic still; and such a lake 
could be made by damming the Merced River below El 
Capitan. But it would cost many millions. 

Too much for one afternoon are all these scenes and 
speculations, and we reach the hotel thoroughly ex- 
hausted and hungry. The bill of fare at the Stonemau 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 93 

House is a considerable improvement on that of the 
original inhabitants of the Yosemite, who used to live 
on acorns, scorched wild oats and grass seeds, dried 
caterpillars, roasted grasshoppers, and similar delicacies ; 
but in other respects the arrangements are somewhat 
primitive, and the lady who missed the lace curtains at 
the Wawona Hotel probably was equally disappointed at 
the Stoneman House, where the guests have to sleep 
with blue spectacles on unless they wish the sun to 
wake them at six, by shining straight into their faces 
through the bare v/indows. However, there is good 
reason for getting up early ; for Mirror Lake must be 
visited before the breeze, which is apt to blow soon after 
sunrise, has had time to disturb the surface of the 
" Sleeping Water," as the Indians used to call this shal- 
low little lake situated a few miles up the Tenaya 
canon. 

Mirror Lake deserves attention, not only because in 
it are reflected some of the finest mountain forms in 
America, but because it indirectly helped to give the 
Valley its present name. The Indian name for it was 
Ahwahnee. One morning, according to the Indian 
legend, a chief went to the Sleeping Water, where 
he ran across a monstrous grizzly bear. After a ter- 
rific combat, in which his only weapon was the limb 
of a tree, he despatched him, and henceforth his fol- 
lowers called him Yo Semite, or Big Grizzly, which 
name was handed down to his children, and ultimately 
to the whole tribe ; and at the first white men's camp- 
fire in the Valley it was thus named, at the suggestion 
of Dr. L. H. Bunnell. 

Mirror Lake is small, and not especially impressive 
as a body of water, but its grand surroundings and the 



94 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

absolute stillness of its surface make it perhaps the 
most perfect aqueous mirror in the world. The bunches 
of grass in the middle of the lake, the trees lining its 
borders, and the bold mountains in the background are 
reflected so clearly and so vividly that in a photo- 
graph it is difficult to tell which is the real picture 
or which the image, the water itself appearing like a 
thin sheet separating the two antipodal views. It is 
under the guidance of Mr. Galen Clark, the super- 
intendent of the Valley, that the lake is seen to best 
advantage, as he knows all the best points of view, 
and is armed with a slightly concave looking-glass 
which makes the scene doubly a mirror-lake. No paint- 
ing could equal in beauty the miniature views of 
subaquatic landscape shown in this glass, in all the 
natural colors — the blue sky resting on the gray and 
white rocks, and the dark green trees showing every 
branch and every needle with perfect distinctness. The 
climax comes when the sun begins to peep from behind 
the mountain summits, which here hide it an hour 
longer than in the lower Valley. In j\lr. Clark's mirror 
it looks like a large electric light whose dazzle throws 
the mirrored views of sky, mountain, and forest into a 
gloomy shade, making the scene like a dream of the 
lower world. We liad to keep on the move constantly 
to keep the sun in view, yet not too high, and I never 
before realized how quickly the sun does travel, or how 
the conformation of the mountain ridges can make it 
seemingly go now to the left, and now to the right. 
When it had climbed too high to be looked at comfort- 
ably even in a mirror, a breeze suddenly arose and 
obliterated the scenery painted on the lake's surface. 
Just at that moment two wagon-loads of tourists arrived 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 95 

from the hotel. They had known as well as we that 
MuTor Lake after sunrise is nothing but an ordinary 
pond, but had lingered too long over their breakfast or 
between their sheets. Such is the average tourist — 
travelling hundreds of miles, and enduring the fatigues 
of staging to see a world-famous scene, and then miss- 
ing all for the sake of a few more bites of tough beef- 
steak ! 

The whole day still lies before us, and it is part of 
the regular programme to spend it in seeing the Vernal 
and Nevada Falls. The carriage takes us across a 
bridge, where saddle-horses are in waiting for those 
who dread the climb. Make the driver stop a few min- 
utes on the middle of the bridge, because thence you 
get one of the finest views of one of those unique moun- 
tain formations of the Sierra Nevada, — the North Dome, 
as true to its name and as absolutely symmetrical and 
regular as any capitol or religious edifice ever con- 
structed. The falls we have seen so far are formed by 
creeks which fall over the Yosemite walls and then 
join the river below ; but those we are to see now are 
formed by the Merced itself, and therefore promise to 
be more imposing in volume, even if inferior in height. 
A wide bridle-path leads up the steep gorge, perfectly 
safe for the most nervous, though much blasting was 
necessary to make it so. Superb views of the Valley 
beneath, of the precipitous cliffs on all sides, and from 
them a water-fall or two which would make the repu- 
tation of any ordinary mountain region, but which here 
are hardly noticed amid the abundance of first-class 
cataracts. A deserted losf cabin near the foot of the 
Vernal Fall marks the place where we can either follow 
the horses up to the top of the fall or climb up by a 



96 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

steep footpath by the side of the fall. By all means 
this path should be taken, either going or descending, 
the latter being preferable not only as being much 
easier, but because our descending from the top to the 
base of the fall makes it seem higher, grander, and 
louder every moment. 

The Vernal Fall is about four hundred feet high 
and eighty feet wide — considerably lower than those in 
the Valley, but much wider and more voluminous, and 
therefore stands midway between the kind of falls which 
impose through their massiveness, of which Niagara is 
the type, and those whose principal charm lies in their 
height and eternal variation of aspect, as is the case 
with the Yellowstone, Bridal Veil, and Yosemite Falls. 
Few hear of the Vernal Fall before coming to the Yo- 
semite ; yet if it were situated amid the mountains of 
Switzerland, it would be surrounded by a dozen hotels 
and seen by a hundred thousand visitors every summer. 
Approaching it by the footpath, we are soon enveloped 
in a drenching spray, the haunt of a superb rainbow, 
which at first forms a complete circle, but as we get up 
higher is gradually reduced to the semi-circular form of 
ordinary rainbows (another reason for taking this path 
on returning, since a scenic cresceiido is preferable to a 
decrescetido'). The last part of the ascent is made on a 
series of stairs, dizzy but safe, built through a sort 
of cavern in the rock, where we can get a peep right 
into the home of rare ferns and mosses, kept green by 
the spray, and fortunately just out of reach of amateur 
botanists. At the summit, the guide steps out on the 
smooth crranite to the edg-e of the fall, and holds out his 
hand for those wno wish to approach and see its foot. 
The upper part can be seen by leaning over a curious 



SANTA BARBAKA AND THE YOSEMITE. 97 

granite parapet, about three feet high, looking, as Pro- 
fessor Whitney remarks, " as if made on purpose to 
afford the visitor a secure position from which to enjoy 
the scene." It is only a foot or two wide, and looks as 
if it were rent off the rest of the rock to some distance 
below, and as if it might be easily kicked over; but 
this feeling of insecurity, where you know you are 
perfectly safe, only adds to the grandeur of the scene. 

It would be impossible to find a more romantic and 
commanding spot than this. At your feet is the Vernal 
Fall and the turbulent Merced tumbling down the 
mammoth gorge ; in the other direction, less than a 
mile upwards, is another water-fall, world famed, — the 
Nevada, — and between these two falls are endless com- 
binations of wild rocks and shooting waters. Only a 
few yards above the Vernal is an eddying hollow known 
as the Emerald Pool ; and immediately above this is "the 
flume, where the stream glides noiselessly but with 
lightning speed over its polished granite bed, making 
a preparatory run for its plunge over the Vernal Fall," 
as the first white man who ever saw this spot, J. H. 
Lawrence, happily described it. The guide here tells 
the story of an Englishman who wanted to " take a 
bawth, don't you know," in this flume, and who was car- 
ried down by the swift and powerful current into the 
Emerald Pool, where he caught on to a bush just in 
time to avoid being swept over the falls. 

In low water the thin layer of swiftly moving water 
gives the flume a silvery appearance, whence it has 
received the name of Silver Apron ; but if the Indians 
had any name for it, it must have been the more poetic 
designation of Arrow Water, or something similar. It 
is not safe to go near its edge ; for it is sometimes sud- 



98 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

denly widened by one of those curious irregular pulsa- 
tions and reinforcements noticed in many cascades. 
We now cross a bridge over the raging torrent, and stop 
at the Casa Nevada, where Mr. Snow and his wife 
always are ready to provide a bountiful lunch at short 
notice. I believe that the principal reason why this 
lunch is so bountiful is because Mrs. Snow wants to get 
off her favorite joke at least once a day. Some one is 
sure to ask where she gets all these victuals, whereupon 
she replies, " We raise them," adding, after a pause and 
a look at the incredulous faces, " on mules." Mr. Snow 
is known as Perpetual Snow, from having lived here 
almost twenty years, and he sometimes facetiously offers 
to show summer visitors "six feet of Snow" right in 
his house. He has albums for sale containing fine col- 
lections of Yosemite ferns — thirty-six different kinds ; 
and shows with pride his old registers in which many 
famous visitors have signed their names. 

Only a few steps from the house, the Nevada Fall 
comes thundering down its six hundred feet or more, 
according to the season. To the left is Liberty Cap, 
almost as precipitous as El Capitan, yet often ascended. 
A path leads up to the summit of the Nevada Fall, 
which, however, cannot be approached near enough to 
get a downward glimpse ; but this is compensated for by 
the fine side views one gets of it coming up. Further 
on is the mountain called Cloud's Rest, from which 
superb \dews of the valley and surroundings, as well as 
the high Sierras, are obtainable, but which can rarely be 
visited with comfort before the middle of May, on 
account of the deep snow-patches under which the path 
is buried. There is also a trail leading from the Casa 
Nevada over to one of the most famous parts of the 



SANTA BAKBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 99 

Yosemite walls, — Glacier Point ; but there is so much 
to see there that one ought to devote a whole day to it. 
Therefore Ave return to the Valley the same way we 
came, and the next morning are again in the saddle, 
bound for Glacier Point, directly over the hotel. Every- 
bod}' has seen pictures of Glacier Point, and the huge 
boulder which projects at one place several feet over 
the edge of the wall. On this boulder many persons 
have had their photographs taken, with nothing between 
them and the bottom of the Valley, more than half a 
mile beneath, than a bit of projecting rock, and nothing 
to hold on by. On the ledge to the right, however, an 
iron railing has been securely fastened, so that the most 
timorous can now look down with perfect safety. 

At this point a flag is floating, and in the evening it 
is customary to build a fire, and afterwards throw the 
brands and coals over the brink. To the hotel guests 
directly below, who have been watching for them, these 
brands present the appearance of a golden water-fall, 
thus adding one more to the Yosemite's incomparable 
collection. 

Looking up from this Valley, shut in on all sides 
by perpendicular walls, and lofty peaks from twenty- 
five hundred to seven thousand feet in height, it seems 
impossible that a way to the summit should have been 
found except by climbing up the canon as we did yes- 
terday ; but there is a more direct path straight up the 
wall, to which the guide conducts us, after passing the 
village and the seldom-used, solitary chapel. The as- 
cent is very steep in some places, and hard on man and 
beast; but so well planned as to be without risk or 
danger, even though the horse does occasionally poke 
his nose over a yawning abyss. Fortunately for the 



100 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

nervous, the most " ticklish " places are concealed by 
the dense brush clinging to the rocks, else the stubborn 
habit of the animals, of always walking as near the brink 
of the precipice as possible, would cause many a heart 
to stop beating momentarily. The air is wonderfully 
exhilarating and clear, and nothing could be finer 
than the aspect of the receding Valley, and the triple 
Yosemite Falls directly opposite, which are almost 
always in sight. 

Half-way up, on our side, is the Agassiz Rock, — a huge 
boulder, in a state, apparently, of dangerously unstable 
equilibrium, and looking like some of the fantastic pin- 
nacles of the Yellowstone caiion, as if it might be kicked 
over with one foot; but appearances are deceptive. 
There is a good hotel at the summit, where the horses 
are left with the guide, while we proceed a few hundred 
yards farther, to Glacier Point. Imagine how the Valley 
would look from a balloon, and you have some concep- 
tion of the gruesome charms of Glacier Point, whence 
the outlook or downward look into the Valley is more 
perpendicular and awe-inspiring than from Inspiration 
Point, which affords the more picturesque view of the 
whole length of the Valley, its depth being a sub- 
ordinate feature. But the advantage of Glacier Point 
lies in this, that by walking a few steps to the right, an 
entirely different scene is commanded, — a scene which 
includes both the Vernal and Nevada Falls, and beyond 
them an imposing array of snow-clad Sierra summits. 
It is here that every visitor must feel the impotence 
and barrenness of words to paint the images treasured 
in his memory ; and were every word a photograph, 
a description would convey but a faint impression 
of the original. But we are to go up liigher yet, 



SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 101 

where a still wider circle of mountains, cliffs, domes, 
canons, and snow-fields will come within the field of vis- 
ion. The Sentinel Dome is our goal now, although the 
guide is not quite certain whether the path is sufficiently- 
free from snow for the horses : we do come upon many- 
large snow-patches, a foot or two deep, but we always 
manage to get through or around them. Fresh snow of 
this depth sometimes falls as late as the end of May, 
even in the Valley below. 

At last we emerge from the forest, tie our horses to 
the last trees, and clamber up the bald pate of the 
Dome. Hence the billowy crests of the Sierra Nevada, 
including peaks of thirteen thousand feet and over, 
show themselves in something approaching their real 
height and sublime grandeur. The scene is not unlike 
that of the Spanish Sierra Nevada, as seen from Granada, 
thus presenting one of the numerous resemblances 
between Spain and California. The surface of the Sen- 
tinel Dome is full of curious small holes, probably the 
product of innumerable expansions and contractions 
of the rock under the influence of alternating heat and 
cold. The very top is occupied by a stunted, gnarled, 
and broken pine, presenting the appearance of a veteran 
warrior and storm wrestler, covered with wounds, upon 
which it exudes the soothing balm of a remarkably fra- 
grant kind of pitch. Beware of touching it ! a second's 
contact will ruin a suit. Had Heine ever been in Cali- 
fornia, we might feel certain that this tree must have 
suggested to him that fine poem of the pine-tree dream- 
ing amidst its winter snows of the palm-tree bathed in 
sunshine, — say in the Mojave Desert, but a hundred 
miles away. 

Returning toward the Valley, we soon come to a 



102 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

place known as Washburn Point, where the view of the 
falls and mountains is similar to that obtained from 
the Sentinel Dome, and perhaps even more impressive 
because of its being nearer. From here the scenery of 
the high Sierras can be seen even by those who are 
unable to walk or ride on such arduous paths ; for there 
is a good wagon road leading hence to the Wawona 
Hotel, and striking the road to the Valley some miles 
above. For pedestrians, by far the best way to see the 
Valley would be to take this road from the Wawona, 
spending the night at the Glacier Point Hotel, devot- 
ing the next day to this place and the Sentinel Dome, 
and descending to the Valley on the day following by 
way of the Nevada and Vernal Falls. Thus the Valley 
may be visited without any uphill work at all. 

It is well to make all one's plans in advance, so as to 
be able to reserve a good return seat on the stage as soon 
as you arrive at the Stoneman. The stage leaves early 
in the morning, and returns as far as the AVawona Hotel, 
where we arrive in time for lunch. After lunch un- 
covered stages drive up to the hotel, and everybody gets 
aboard for a visit to the Big Trees in the Mariposa 
Grove. The round trip covers seventeen miles only, 
thus leaving plenty of time to see the arboreal giants at 
leisure. The road takes us more deeply into the virgin 
forest than we have penetrated yet, and there are many 
superb trees which attract the attention long before the 
Mariposa Grove is reached. Some of the passengers 
begin to comment on a few big sugar pines, and even 
express a desire to stop and measure them; but the 
driver scornfully refuses to waste any time on such pig- 
mies. So on and up we go, and at last come to a few 
scattered specimens which the driver admits belong to 



SANTA BAKBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 103 

the real Big Tree ftamily ; but he does not stop till we 
reach the world-renowned Grizzly Giant, the thickest, 
though not the highest, of all the Sequoias. With the 
exception of some specimens of the African Baobab, tliis 
is the thickest tree in the world, so far as known, 
though by no means the highest. In one of the other 
nine Big Tree groves found in California (and only in 
California) — the Calaveras — there is a tree fifty-three 
feet liigher than any one in the Mariposa Grove, and 
Professor Whitney refers to an Australian eucalyptus 
four hundred and eighty feet in height, overtopping the 
tallest Sequoia by one hundred and fifty-five feet. But 
for height and thickness combined, the Sequoia excels 
all other trees ; and as the Mariposa Grove contains the 
thickest trees, it is the most impressive of all, since in 
the height of a three-hundred-foot tree a difference of 
ten or twenty feet is hardly noticeable, while in the cir 
cumference every foot tells. 

Ten of our party clasped hands to encircle the Grizzly 
Giant, but the endmen could not begin to even see each 
other on the other side. I walked around it and counted 
fifty-three steps. The exact measurement is ninety- 
three feet seven inches, mthout allowing for that portion 
of the bark which has been destroyed by fire. The best 
idea of its enormous girth is conveyed by one of Taber's 
excellent photographs, in which a horse stands along- 
side of the tree, at full length, while a dozen men are 
scattered at intervals along the bark, without nearly 
filling up so much of the tree as is included in the view. 
Though blackened and cruelly hollowed out by fire, the 
Grizzly Giant is still alive, but its upper part is as 
dilapidated and time-worn as the lower ; and no wonder, 
for it must have first stuck its roots into Sierra soil per- 



104 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

haps three or four centuries after the advent of Christ, 
by the most conservative estimate. The lowest branch 
of tliis tree is fully six feet in diameter — large enough 
to set up as a Big Tree by itself, — " as large as the 
trunks of the largest elms of the Connecticut valley." 

Most of the tourists cut off little slices of the bark, 
which in this case is hardly a reprehensible practice, for 
it would take decades of such petty vandalism to make 
any impression on this monster. Yet there are other 
mementos that might as well be taken, such as the 
mosses clinging to it and the cones found under it. 
These cones are surprisingly small, — only about two 
inches in length, — especially when compared with other 
cones found in this region and offered for sale at the 
hotels, put up in wooden frames and covered with moss 
— some of them a foot and a half or more in length. 
But the Grizzly Giant must not detain us too long ; for 
there are several hundi'cd more Sequoias to be seen, and, 
as a punster suggested, a Big-treatise might be written 
on the Mariposa Grove alone. 

As we pass from the Lower to the Upper Grove, these 
trees become more and more numerous among the pines 
and firs, until at last we come to a genuine grove of 
Sequoia giganteas, — a real forest cathedral. There is a 
flutter of excitement as we approach the Tunnel Tree, 
or Wawona (which is Indian for big tree), through 
which the stage drives as it stands, with horses, passen- 
gers, and all. The diameter of this tree at the ground 
is twenty-seven feet, or three feet less than the Grizzly 
Giant ; the " tunnel " hj which we go tlu-ough it is ten 
feet high and from six to ten feet wide. Just as we 
drive into it, a poetic youth exclaims to his fair com- 
panion, " Now look out for spiders ! " and others of the 




I!I(; THEE — VdSKMITE \' ALLEY. 



SANTA BxVKBAEA AND THE YOSEMITE. 105 

same class must nave passed tlirougli before, for names 
are written on the inside, and even visiting-cards tacked 
on. The wood chopped out here was of course made 
into relics and sold years ago, yet paper knives and 
other things made of it are still to be had in the grove 
in quantities to suit. 

At a little log cabin, occupied by the guardians of the 
grove, the stage stops again, and the venturesome climb 
up the prostrate trunk of a fallen monarch, on a rickety 
ladder. The upper part of the trunk is rotten, and 
resembles the hull of a wrecked ocean steamer. It once 
took five men three weeks to fell one of these giants ; 
and even after the connection of the trunk with the 
stump had been severed, it took three days of wedge- 
driving before the tree could be made to fall. Imagine, 
therefore, the force of wind required to throw over such 
a tree, and the nerve of Ancbew Jackson Smith, who 
once remained in the hollow of one of them, known as 
Smith's Cabin (in the South Grove), during a Sierra 
storm which threw down " Old Goliath " ! 

The guardians of the grove have for sale packages of 
seeds of the Big Trees, though they frankly tell pur- 
chasers that not one in a hundred will grow. They 
have a nursery near the cabin, and often send young 
trees away. The Sequoia gigantea^ although found 
nowhere except in the Sierra Nevada of California, 
grows readily elsewhere, and vast numbers have been 
planted in this country and abroad. The climate of 
England is said to be specially favorable to it, and 
from seeds planted there in 1853 have grown trees 
which are already over sixty feet in height and ten in 
girth. A thousand years hence England will have her 
Big Tree Groves, and they will be more beautiful than 



106 SANTA BARBARA AND THE YOSEMITE. 

those of California, because better guarded against 
forest fires. But they will lack the majestic mountain 
surroundings. 

It would almost seem as if the existence of these 
giant trees in the Sierra Nevada were intended by nature 
as a striking artistic contrast and compensation for the 
utter absence of forests in Southern California, — a con- 
trast heightened by the numerous other fine species of 
evergreen trees, especially the famous redwood groves, 
which Professor Whitney has described so poetically. 
Outside of Ceylon and other tropical countries there is, 
perhaps, no region which has so fine and varied an 
assortment of valuable woods as the Yosemite neighbor- 
hood. No visitor should fail to see the admirable col- 
lection of ornamental objects prepared by J. Starke, 
some of them inlaid with several dozen kinds of Sierra 
woods, making a mosaic as elegant as mother-of-pearl. 
And I must once more refer to another thing in which 
the Yosemite region is unexcelled, — the flowers. 

After seeing the unrivalled Valley, in which Nature, 
as in a final operatic chorus, has grouped in an over- 
whelming ensemble all her motives — snow-peaks, domes, 
spires, precipices, lakes, rivers, and water-falls — all in 
the small compass of six or seven miles, the scenery 
on the way back to the San Joaquin Valley, fine as it is, 
and seemed on coming, cannot but have the effect of an 
anticlimax. Not so with the flowers, which have only 
gained in beauty, variety, and abundance during our 
week's stay in the Valley. Once I got off the stage, while 
it was climbing a hill, and in the space of half a mile 
gathered twenty-two kinds, which excited many " olis " 
and "ahs '' from the other passengers. California poppy 
patches, nestling under trees, formed such indescribably 



SANTA BABBAIlA AND THE YOSEMITE. 107 

lovely groups that sometimes every hand in the stage 
was pointed at them by a unanimous impulse. In 
some places the flowers stand so dense that a bota- 
nist, in measuring off a square yard, found over three 
thousand plants on it. Here a flower-painter might 
spend his life making perfect pictures which he need 
only copy from nature ; and he could not fail of at least 
one of the attributes of genius, — he need never repeat 
himself. 



VIII. 
SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

MOUNTAINOUS CHARACTER OF THE PACIFIC COAST THE 

HILLS OF SAN FRANCISCO CABLE-CAR TOBOGGANING 

THE GOLDEN GATE AND CLIFF HOUSE SCENES IN THE 

CHINESE QUARTER JOHn's TABLE DELICACIES LUNCH 

IN A CHINESE RESTAURANT AN HONEST BOOKSELLER 

CHINESE WOMEN OPIUM DENS BEHIND THE SCENES 

IN A CHINESE THEATRE THE ASIATIC TRADE CAL- 
IFORNIA HOTELS, RESTAURANTS, AND WINES BERKELEY 

AND THE UNIVERSITY THE CLIMATE OF SAN FRAN- 
CISCO. 

A GLANCE at a relief map of the United States shows 
a most striking contrast between the Atlantic and the 
Pacific slopes, especially within a few hundred miles of 
the coast. In the east, the mountains are few and low ; 
whereas in the whole of California, Oregon, and Wash- 
ington there is hardly a spot whence the view does not 
include a mountain range with a few snow-peaks. And 
this hilly structure characterizes also the three leading 
cities of the coast, and many of the smaller ones. Los 
Angeles, near one end, has recently built cable-cars to 
climb the hills which shut it in ; Portland, near the 
other end, is beginning to build hers ; and San Fran- 
cisco, in the centre, has long had the most complete 
cable-car system in the world. Rome may have been 
108 



SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 109 

built on seven hills, but San Francisco, as its inhabi- 
tants love to claim, is a city of a huncbed hills. There 
is Californian exaggeration in tliis ; for the greater part 
of the present city stantls on about a dozen hills, with 
the intervening valleys and the level lots created by 
digging twenty million cubic yards of earth out of the 
hill-sides, and filling up the hollows ; but beyond these 
there are scores of suburban hills, so to speak, waiting to 
be annexed ; and when the city shall have grown to the 
size of London, — which, of course, is only a question of 
time, — it will probably cover a hundred hills : q. e. d. 

For purposes of drainage and other sanitary reasons, 
this hilly structure of the city is a decided advantage, 
and that it adds greatly to the picturesqueness of the 
impression which it makes on visitors is obvious. Ap- 
proaching it at night on an Oakland or Saucelito ferry- 
boat, or viewing it from an elevated point, it does not 
present to the eye such a limitless area of countless 
lights as does New York seen from Union Hill, Ho- 
boken ; but the grouping of the lights is more fascinat- 
ing, some of them leading in straight, double lines up 
the hills ; while others are arranged in semicircles along 
the amphitheatric valleys. To get a bird's-eye view of 
San Francisco in the daytime, one need not climb ardu- 
ous towers, as in Eastern and European cities ; but has 
only to take a front seat on a cable-car, — with an out- 
look unimpeded by driver or horses, — to see the city 
from half-a-dozen high hills, and as many different 
points of view. No city in the world can be seen so 
easily, so quickly, and so delightfully, as San Francisco, 
from these cable-cars, which, in the long run, make per- 
haps as good time as the Ncav York elevated trains. It 
is a constant up and down, and the sensation of rapidly 



110 SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

ascending a liill through rows of handsome residences 
and flower-gardens, without having to pity the poor, 
puffing horses, is as agreeable as the sudden plunges 
downward, so fast, and often so precijaitous, that by- 
shutting the eyes one can easily imagine himself to 
be out tobogganing. The feeling is similar to that 
experienced at Mauch Chunk, Pennsylvania, on decend- 
ing the hill for twenty minutes on a car whose only 
motor is gravitation. 

The most enjoyable of the cable-car excursions is the 
one in the direction of the Golden Gate and Cliff House, 
connecting in the suburbs with a new steam-dummy 
road only completed a short time ago, and not yet 
mentioned in the guide-books. This excursion is really 
one of the finest in California, and should be missed by 
no tourist ; for it gives him superb views of the city from 
several hills, and of the bay studded with pretty islands, 
and finally takes him to the very edge of the Golden 
Gate, where he can see the ships and steamers entering 
or departing for China, Japan, Australia, and every 
port of Europe and America. The road continuously 
skirts the shore, being dug or blasted out of the precijD- 
itous hill-sides ; and directly below us are the Pacific 
breakers blindly dashing themselves into foam and spray 
on the rocks. The terminus is the Cliff House, with its 
" seal rocks," densely inhabited by the sea-lions, which 
have been too often described to call for more than 
mention. There are countless seal rocks between San 
Diego and Sitka, but none so near a large city as these, 
which may be looked on as a free aquarium and an addi- 
tion to the Golden Gate Park. Thej^ would have long 
since been depopulated were they not protected by law. 
The fishermen clamor for a repeal of this law, because 



SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. Ill 

the seals kill so many salmon bound for the Sacramento 
River at the other end of the bay ; but the gain of a few 
hundred fishermen would be the loss of three hundred 
and fifty thousand San Franciscans. As well let the city 
fathers turn over the Golden Gate Park to the vegeta- 
ble gardeners. It takes up many acres which might be 
planted with useful cabbages and onions, — enough to 
enrich quite a number of gardeners ; for it is three miles 
long and half a mile wide, containing one hundred and 
fifty acres more than the Central Park in New York. 
Besides, it contains poison-oak, and is so "unimproved" 
in part, that only a few years ago a wildcat was killed 
in it. Therefore, down with the Park ! let it be ex- 
terminated, together with the useless, harshly barking, 
salmon-eating seals ! 

No doubt more people have had their first glimpse of 
the illimitable Pacific at the Cliff House than from all 
other places on the Californian Coast; and it is a most 
delightful spot to spend a few hours, although at any 
time of the year a light overcoat is desirable. When 
we are ready to return we have the choice of several 
roads, none of which, however, is as attractive as the 
one we came on. So we once more connect with the 
cable-cars and have another five cents' worth of tobog- 
ganing — without snow or danger of broken limbs. I 
should think that cable-car tobogganing parties ought 
to be among the most popular amusements in San Fran- 
cisco. I am sure if I lived there I should ride to the 
Cliff House every day in the year. The return trip 
takes us through different streets from those we saw 
before, and on arriving at the corner of Jones and 
Washington Streets, a most magnificent prospect opens 
before us. We have risen to the crest of a hill, which 



112 SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

seems to be the end of the world, when suddenly the 
whole city lies far down below us, and the car makes an 
almost perpendicular plunge a few hundred yards, as if 
determined to lose no time in getting there. You must 
hold on tightly, but there is no cause for alarm, as the 
frequent accidents on these roads do not happen in such 
places, but in the crowded streets below. Presently a 
still greater surprise awaits us. The car turns a corner, 
and without a moment's warning we are in China, which 
we had imagined five thousand miles away. In other 
parts of the city we see an occasional Chinese laundry and 
a few Chinamen mingled with the throng of Americans ; 
but here the proportions are more than rei^ersed, — 
Chinese men, women, and children, Chinese shops and 
signs, Chinese conversation, and Cliinese smells monopo- 
lize the attention. 

San Francisco has more than twenty thousand Chi- 
nese, hence it may be imagined that Chinatown is not 
a village. Anti-Mongolians like to compare it to a 
cancer which is eating its way through the vitals of the 
city, constantly enlarging at the edges. Blocks upon 
blocks in some of the best streets are given over to the 
Asiatic invaders ; and while the large buildings formerly 
occupied by Americans have been left standing, they 
have undergone such a thorough metamorphosis that 
if the Chinese should ever be driven from the city (as 
they were from Tacoma), the simplest way to Ameri- 
canize these streets again, would be to blow them up with 
dynamite and rebuild them — which would also perhaps 
be the best way for sanitary reasons. But while the main 
buildings and streets have been left as originally laid 
out, a number of side streets and narrow alleys — exact 
copies of thooc in China — have been created to con- 



SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 113 

nect them, and fill up every vacant yard and corner; 
for a Chinaman is not happy unless crowded as closely 
as salmon in an Alaskan creek. What adds to this 
effect of crowding is that all life and activity seems to 
be concentrated on the ground floor, no business being 
apparently carried on in the upper floors, which look 
uninhabited and empty, without window curtains, or 
shutters, or signboards, or other signs of habitation, 
excepting in the restaurants, whose outsides, from base 
to roof, are gayly and gaudily decorated, and illuminated 
at night with Chinese paper lanterns. The old stores 
with their large rooms have been subdivided into many 
smaller ones — some of them only fifteen to twenty feet 
wide or even less. The place of signboards is taken by 
the well-known wide scrolls of red paper with Chinese 
characters printed on them, and pasted vertically on 
the street side, while smaller ones are pasted on the 
windows. Some of the narrowest alleys have no stores, 
but only cheap eating-houses, gambling-places, and rows 
of barred windows, behind which wretched female slaves 
solicit passers-by. Among them are some rather pretty 
faces, but others are hideously marked by disease. In 
the gambling-dens domino-playing seems to be the favor- 
ite game. It is different from ours, though the blocks 
are similar, and some of the players are as expert in 
mixing and placing them, and as excited and flushed 
as the poker-players who monopolize the smoking-room 
on transatlantic steamers. 

The principal impression given by Chinatown is that 
these Mongolians chiefly live to eat, though on looking 
at their provisions, one often wonders that they can eat 
and live. About two-thirds of all the stores are meat, 
fruit, or grocery stalls. The fruits and vegetables ex- 



114 SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

posed for sale are mainly American varieties, though 
among them are some strange to our eyes. The bundles 
of long sticks tied together, seen everywhere, are sugar- 
cane from the Sandwich Islands, of which the Johns 
— and demijohns, as the boys are called — seem to be 
especially fond. Of watermelons, John seems to be as 
inordinately enamored as a negro. The butcher-shops 
have the largest collections of curiosities. Pork and 
poultry are the favorite meats of Chinamen, but they 
must of course do everything differently from our way. 
We smoke our pork and eat our poultry fresh ; they 
eat their pork fresh and smoke their poultry. Smoked 
ducks, chickens, and geese are suspended everywhere 
as a bait to passing epicures. Dried and smoked fish, 
some from China, fill up large barrels, and some are 
eaten fresh. Poultry also is sometimes eaten fresh — 
at least certain parts , for in one lieap on the counter 
you will see the entrails of chickens ; in another, the 
combs and beards of roosters ; and in a third, the heads 
and claws ! Nothing is wasted. A frequent sight is a 
large tub filled to the brim with cold boiled rice. I 
bought a cake in a baker's shop, below the pavement, 
marked with neat Chinese letters. When I opened it, 
subsequently, I found that behind the inoffensive-look- 
ing crust it harbored rice and another finer grain, 
watermelon seeds, little pieces of bacon, several hazel- 
nuts, and some other mysterious ingredients. Obviously 
I had come across a sort of Chinese mince-pie. I didn't 
eat it. In another store I bought an album containing 
a collection of Japanese girls, some of them real beau- 
ties (the Chinese, I was informed, do not allow their 
women to be photographed), some very cheap silk hand- 
kerchiefs embroidered on both sides ; and for seventy 



SAN FEANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 115 

cents an elegantly carved bamboo, shaped like a large 
dude's cane and containing inside a telescoped fishing- 
rod, which I subsequently found useful in trouting in 
the brooks near Lake Tahoe. 

An old man with a bookstall on the street, of whom 
I bought an illustrated volume, altogether upset my 
notions of Cliinese morality. I asked him how much it 
was, and understood him to say " four bits " ; so I gave 
him fifty cents and walked off with the book. But he 
ran after me, and saying " tivo bits," gave me back a 
quarter. His countrymen seemed to be pleased to see 
me walking along with a Chinese book under my arm, 
and several of them smiled and greeted me, which they 
had not done before. The majority of the Chinese in 
San Francisco belong, of course, to the lowest classes of 
their race ; but there are among them some of refined 
and educated appearance, though I could not make out 
whether those wearing goggles as large as butter-plates 
thereby intended to convey the impression that their 
eyes had been greatly injured by excessive study. 
Women are frequently seen wobbling along the street, 
dressed in blue or black blouses and baggy trousers, 
almost like those of the men, though much wider. 
Their deformed feet are placed on solid wooden soles 
with embroidered silk above, and their faces are almost 
as greatly deformed as their feet by the hideous Chinese 
custom of combing the hair tightly back from the fore- 
head. More numerous than the women are children of 
both sexes, dressed in the most gaudy green, blue, and 
other costumes and caps. Their round cherubic faces, 
sparkling eyes, and fresh, healthy complexion present 
a cheerful contrast to the sallow complexion, sunken 
cheeks, and hollow eyes of the adults, victims of opium- 
smoking and other forms of dissipation. 



116 SAN FKANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

Chinatown in the daytime may be freely visited by the 
"Melican" man and woman. At night it is advisable 
to take a policeman or a guide, and leave the women 
at home, unless their nerves are shock-proof. The 
scene at night differs from that in the daytime ; for 
whereas in the morning Chinatown seems little more 
than a big market-place, at night it is one vast barber- 
shop in which half the population seems to be engaged 
in shaving and mutilating the other half. There are no 
curtains ; and if you stop a minute and look into one of 
the tiny shops on the ground floor or in the cellar, you 
will see a tonsorial artist deftly shaving his victim's 
head, chin, eyebrows, lashes, nose, clean his ears, etc. 
Perhaps you are standing this moment over a Chinese 
dormitory ; for space is expensive in so large a city, and 
John utilizes every inch of it by making his bed under 
the sidewalks. We follow the guide into subterranean 
haunts, down several flights of rickety stairs, to get a 
peep at the opium-dens. It is estimated that there is 
only on.e Chinaman out of every five in San Francisco 
who does not revel in his daily opium debauch, and 
even that fifth man uses it occasionally as a sedative. 
Some manage to get drunk on ten cents' worth a day, 
while others need as much as a dollar's worth, of a 
superior quality. It was the ten-cent variety we saw 
on this tour. The guide occasionally drops a quarter 
in certain places, and is in return allowed free access 
with his proteges. In dingy little rooms, not much 
larger than a state-room in a steamer, there are several 
bunks, in each of which lies or sits a Chinaman, in 
varying stages of stupid intoxication. Some are already 
asleep, others are just lighting their pipes, and not one 
of them pays the slightest attention to the intruders, 



SAN" FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 117 

unless spoken to. One helpless old wreck lies on a 
bundle of rags, which, the guide said, he has not left 
for five years. His hands and face are mere bones 
covered with yellow parchment, but he still has strength 
and brains enough left to obey the guide when com- 
manded to show us the process of opium-smoking by 
holding a little lump of the drug in the flame of a small 
lamp, where it burns and is turned round like sealing- 
wax, and then stuffed into the small pipe and smoked, 
the fumes being inhaled through the lungs and puffed 
out through the nose. It is not a pleasant odor, but it 
doubtless serves to disguise other odors infinitely worse. 
The only ventilation in these rat-holes is a little slit, 
six inches by two, above the door : yet here these 
Asiatics spend the whole night, the lodging being in- 
cluded in the price of the opium. In one place we 
passed through a kitchen with a closet in the middle of 
it, but as a general thing we did not find subterranean 
Chinatown as filthy as it has often been described ; cer- 
tainly not so bad as some of the places visited in New 
York and London on " slumming " excursions. The 
fear that Chinatown might become a breeding-place of 
bacterial epidemics leads the sanitary authorities to 
look well to their duties ; and besides, San Francisco 
never has any " hot waves," and its climate is in other 
respects unfavorable to pestilential diseases, so that 
Chinatown has not proved such a plague spot as it 
might become under less favorable conditions. 

Many tourists who are anxious to see the opium-dens 
feel inclined to draw the line at the restaurants, at least 
so far as eating there is concerned. But there are 
Chinese restaurants in San Francisco which vie in ele- 
gance of furnishing and fine gilded carvings with the 



118 SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

most famous Parisian caf^s. A good cup of tea can 
here be obtained, and there can be no harm in tasting 
the half-dozen kinds of preserves and cake served 
with it — all for twenty-five cents. There is preserved 
ginger, and small oranges, and pickled melon, China 
nuts and other delicacies, and a sort of oyster-fork to 
eat them with. In one of the rooms you will probably 
see several Chinamen eating a sort of ragout out of a 
large bowl, with chopsticks — every mouthful being first 
dipped into a kind of sauce. The bowl is held close to 
the mouth, to make the chopsticks less elusive substi- 
tutes for spoons. Eating with chopsticks is exciting 
and somewhat like fishing : you never know when you 
will get the next bite. 

The thing to visit next is one of the temples, or Joss 
Houses, of which there are dozens in the city, some 
belonging to trade associations. Visitors are allowed 
to go behind the altars as close to the hideous idols as 
they please, the keepers themselves seeming to look 
upon their charge as a sort of dime museum ; and as 
the admission is free, they try to earn an honest penny 
by selling little bundles of incense tapers to -vdsitors. 

It is getting late, and they are ready to lock the door 
after we are out ; but the theatre is still a-going, and to 
that we now repair. As the floor is crowded, we walk 
right on to the stage, through a side gate, and sit down 
near the actors. Our presence does not jar with the 
scenery, as there is none of that commodity visible, 
unless it be the band, which occujoies the centre of the 
stage and fills the air with ]\Iongolian noise and disso- 
nance. The instruments ma}^ be described as a gong 
or cymbals, a stick struck rapidly on a noisy board, and 
an embryonic banjo and violin which sounds like a 



SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 119 

hysterical oboe. Yet tliere is melody and harmony 
occasionally in these last two instruments, which almost 
incessantly accompany the actors' words, as in a modern 
music-drama, leaving their noisy neighbors to emphasize 
the murders and other striking episodes. The actors 
sometimes stand on the stage floor, sometimes on a chair 
or table. Their declamation is a sing-song in a high 
falsetto voice. There are no women, but the best actor 
is an impersonator of female roles, and has his face 
painted and his hair combed back in the most " stylish " 
way. The faces of these actors are utterly void of 
expression. Having heard enough of their play, we 
went into the green-room, where one of the actors 
explained to us his costumes and their prices in China. 
In a corner there was tea on tap, to which every one 
seemed to resort at intervals of five minutes. We went 
out by the other stage door, and stood in the very centre 
of the stage, watching the musicians ; yet our presence 
there did not seem in the least to disconcert the spec- 
tators, who, with hats on, were attending to the play 
with open-mouthed interest, though they never ap- 
plauded or laughed or gave any other signs of approval 
or disapproval. Sometimes, however, they do throw 
cigar-ends and other objects at actors who offend them 
by their art or sentiments. 

Dime museums, shooting-galleries, dirty little res- 
taurants, cheap drug and clothing stores, and similar 
places generally mark the transition from Chinatown to 
San Francisco proper. In one or two streets the transi- 
tion is of a different sort, leading gradually through 
more elegant Chinese stores and wholesale houses to 
the American quarters. San Francisco has many fine 
streets, in strolling through which one can easily believe 



120 SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

the statements that the city has one-third of all the 
wealth on the Pacific Coast, harbors fifty millionnaires, 
and has exports including treasure to the value of 
more than a hundred million dollars a year. Such 
streets as Market, Kearney, Montgomery, and Post 
would attract attention even in Paris or London, and 
there is evidence of general prosperity in the numer- 
ous elegant residences as well as in the thronged busi- 
ness streets. Of late, an uneasy feeling has betrayed 
itself over the rivalry of the Canadian Pacific Railway 
and its harbor town, Vancouver, in attempting to secure 
the trade with Japan and China, the distance being 
somewhat in favor of Vancouver. But there is plenty 
of room for several large cities on the Pacific Coast ; and 
San Francisco, having the only good harbor between 
San Diego and Puget Sound, need not be afraid of 
retrograding if the Canadians get some of the tea trade. 
Even if they should get the whole of the Asiatic trade, 
which is impossible, the handling and shipping of Cali- 
fornia wine, fruit, and agricultural products would suf- 
fice always to make San Francisco one of the three or 
four largest cities in America ; and the opening of the 
Nicaragua Canal will give its trade a new and great 
impetus. 

Market Street is the Broadway of San Francisco, but 
it differs from Broadway in New York in being as 
crowded in the evening as in the daytime. Yet the 
evening crowd is not the same as the day crowd, being 
bent on pleasure merely, like the multitudes which 
promenade in the alamedas of Spanish cities, late in the 
afternoon. San Franciscans are too busy to give up the 
afternoon hours to pleasure, so they have their daily 
street review and reception between eight and ten 



SAK FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 121 

o'clock ill tlie evening, during which hours Market 
Street is as crowded as Fifth Avenue on Sunday after- 
noons.. The throng comes to an abrupt end a block or 
two above the Palace Hotel, and visitors stepping thence 
into a comparatively deserted street are apt to be sur- 
prised on suddenly finding that they have to elbow 
their way through a dense, moving mass of men and 
women. It seems strange that the crowd should not 
include the Palace Hotel in its promenading line, so as 
to give the guests in the large bay-windows, which 
make up the entire front of this immense structure, a 
chance to review it. San Franciscans are fond of boast- 
ing of this as being the largest hotel in the world, and 
one of the most sumptuously furnished, having cost 
about seven million dollars. Few cities, indeed, are so 
well supplied with good hotels as San Francisco, which 
has four of the first rank besides the Palace. There 
are accommodations and prices to suit all purses, but I 
do not believe there is another city in the world where 
one can get such an elegantly furnished, spacious room, 
with board, for three dollars a day, as on the upper 
floors of the Palace, where the air, light, and view are 
better than on the more expensive lower stories. The 
fare is generally good in these hotels, as it ought to be 
in the metropolis of a State which furnishes all the sta- 
ples and delicacies of the table in abundance and always 
in season. Butcher's meat, however, as elsewhere on 
the coast, is frequently tough, and poultry seems to be 
exceedingly scarce or expensive, for it is seldom seen on 
the bill of fare. There are some restaurants, too, where 
good meals can be obtained; but it makes one in- 
dignant to find that even here in the chief city of 
California, some of the restaurateurs are too idiotic, 



122 SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

or dishonest, or both, to furnish California wines under 
California labels at sensible prices. The California 
wines are there, of course, but under French labels and 
at fancy prices, varying from two to five dollars ; 
whereas, if the wine (which is really much better and 
purer than nine-tenths of all imported French clarets) 
were honestly labelled, it could be sold at a quarter 
of those prices. The same humbug flourishes in most 
Eastern restaurants, but here one would think the mob 
would rise in its patriotic indignation and State pride, 
and summarily expel these short-sighted, swindling 
restaurateurs. Claret is so cheap by the gallon that it 
ought to be served free with meals, as in Spain, instead 
of that deadly American drink, ice-water. 

There are cheap eating-houses in San Francisco where 
a poor man can get soup, meat, a dish of vegetables, and 
a glass of claret or beer, — all for ten cents. There is no 
exaggeration in Mr. J. S. Hittell's statement that " the 
wages of labor are still fifteen to thirty per cent higher 
than on the other side of the continent, and fifty to 
one hundred per cent higher than in Europe, while the 
cost of living is lower than in either." Notwithstand- 
ing CJiinese competition (about which a great deal too 
much fuss is made in California, since the Chinamen 
are absolutely needed, especially in harvest-time), it is 
doubtless true that there are few places in the world 
where the laboring-man fares so well as here, owing to 
the cheapness of provisions and the ease with which a 
clieap suburban residence on the back hills or across the 
bay may be reached. 

In the matter of picturesq[ue suburbs, San Francisco 
is admirably supplied. Cross the bay in any direction, 
and you will find no end of fine sites for villas or towns, 



SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 123 

and the suburban capabilities of the islands which beau- 
tify the bay have hardly begun to be exploited. Every 
half-hour a large and comfortable ferry crosses the bay 
directly east to Oakland, noted as a city of elegant 
homes. A few miles beyond lies Berkeley, the Cam- 
bridge of California, being the site of the University of 
California. But neither Cambridge in New England 
nor in Old England has a view to compare with that 
obtainable from Berkeley University and the hills ris- 
ing up behind it, — a view which includes San Francisco, 
the bay, looking like a large lake, and some fine moun- 
tain groups. Here is some of the best society to be 
found in the West, and connected with the University 
is a gallery and good library for the use of the students, 
whose ranks generally include seventy or eighty young 
women. 

Another ferry runs from the city northward to the 
charming suburb of Saucelito, which, although but a 
few miles away, has a climate eight degrees warmer in 
winter than San Francisco, being sheltered by a high hill 
from the violent trade winds and the fogs which find 
free access through the Golden Gate, where they enter 
in order to take the place of the vacant spaces left by 
the rising of the air in the heated Sacramento Valley 
of the interior. Saucelito is the favorite picnic ground 
of San Franciscans, and it commands superb views of 
the bay and its islands, the city, and the Golden Gate , 
but its building-ground is limited, since the parts un- 
sheltered by the wall of the hill are exposed, more even 
than the city opposite, to wind and weather. These 
trade winds and fogs constitute the greatest drawback 
of the climate of San Francisco, and make it unsuited 
for invalids, even in summer. For owing to the trade 



124 SAN FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 

winds and the effect of the Japan cnrrent, arriving via 
Ahiska, there are only seven days in a year when the 
tliermorneter rises to 80° ; and the mean temperature of 
July is 60°, or 17° lower than in New York. Hence sea- 
bathing is a pleasure rarely indulged in near San Fran- 
cisco, the temperature of the water being only 53° in 
July, — 10° or 12° lower than at Santa Barbara. 

Eastern people, and especially Europeans, coming to 
California for climatic reasons are too apt to forget the 
immense size of this State and its infinite variety of 
climates. California, if transferred to the Atlantic 
Coast, would extend from Boston to Charleston, having 
as much coast line as in the East is divided between ten 
States. A year ago I crossed the ocean with an Eng- 
lishman who was apparently in the last stages of bron- 
chitis, and we agreed to meet in January at San Diego. 
He had not aj)peared in April, and I concluded he had 
died on the way across the Continent. But he had 
gone to San Francisco, where his trouble at once in- 
creased so much that he found himself in a worse 
condition than ever, and cursed the climate and the 
London physician who had sent him to California. 
Fortunately, a friend enlightened him on the diversity 
of climate in California, and he went to Santa Barbara, 
where I accidentally came across him, looking hale and 
vigorous, gaining weight, climbing hills, and eating like 
a bear. For persons with weak lungs, therefore, San 
Francisco is not a desirable residence ; but for healthy 
folk it is an ideal climate, because the temperature is 
hardly ever oppressively warm or uncomfortably cold 
for those who are well supplied with flannels. If there 
are only seven days a year when the thermometer rises 
above 79°, there are, on the other hand, only five days 



SAlSr FRANCISCO AND CHINATOWN. 125 

in a year when it falls to the freezing-point. Such a 
climate breeds no numbness, lassitude, sultriness, dolce 
far 7iiente ; hence the San Franciscan is energetic, quick 
in his movements, but not morbidly nervous. The pale- 
faced fragile clerks and dudes of New York and Phil- 
adelphia would either die here of lung disease, or if 
" fit to survive " would soon assume the healthy, robust 
appearance of San Franciscans, to whose strong lungs 
the trade winds, which sweep the city and ever renew 
its atmosphere, are a tonic and a luxury. 



IX. 
LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

CLIMATIC PARADOXES IX SAX FRAXCISCO A ^OXG FERRY- 
BOAT SXOW-SHEDS AXD DOXXER LAKE TRUCKEE 

RIVER LOGGIXG AXD FISHIXG TAHOE CITY ROUXD 

TRIP OX A BOAT A LAKE AMIDST SXOW MOUXTAIXS 

A CIXXAMOX BEAR BUTTERFLIES, SXOW, AXD A BLUE 

SKY LARGE TROUT, AXD HOW TO CATCH THEM SUX- 

SETS REFLECTED IX THE LAKE OTHER COLOR PHEXOM- 

EXA THE FLUME TO CARSOX VALLEY A MOUXTAIX 

RAILWAY DESOLATE XEVADA MOUNTAINS — MIXIXG 

UNDER A CITY GOLD HILL. 

The climatic conditions of San Francisco are anom- 
alons and curious ; shade trees, for instance, which are 
the greatest desideratum and blessing in Los Angeles, 
are not desired by San Franciscans, because the air 
is cool enouofh in summer without artificial shade. On 
the other hand, it is never so cold but that many semi- 
tropical plants will survive a whole winter in a sheltered 
situation outdoors ; and San Francisco has in its public 
places some palm-trees high enough to attract attention 
even in San Diego. The avoidance of extremes is what 
constitutes the charm and value of the climate of San 
Francisco. But if the natives tire of this "golden 
mean," and desire to experience the extremes for the 
sake of variety, they can gratify their wish by a few 
126 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIKGINIA CITY. 127 

hours' ride on the Central Pacific Railroad. At Sacra- 
mento they may find the thermometer above ninety in 
May, and just beyond it a place where oranges ripen six 
weeks sooner than at Los Angeles ; while the station of 
Summit, a few hours further on, may be buried under 
four or five feet of snow, — an article almost unknown 
in San Francisco. Californians, however, are not greatly 
addicted to the habit of seeing the wonderful sights of 
their State, and such places as the Yosemite Valley, the 
Big Tree Groves, and Lake Tahoe owe their fame and 
vogue chiefly to Eastern and foreign tourists. There 
are now half-a-dozen transcontinental routes to choose 
between, so that it does not necessarily follow that every 
one crosses by the Central Pacific ; but those who prefer 
the Northern or the Canadian Pacific should not neglect 
at least to patronize the Central Pacific to the extent of 
twenty dollars for a round-trip ticket, which includes 
the finest scenery along the whole road, — the semi- 
tropical Sacramento Valley, the sudden transition to the 
snow-crowned summit of the Sierra Nevada, the snow- 
sheds, Donner Lake, with a side excursion to Lake 
Tahoe, and the silver mines in Virginia County, Nevada. 
Lake Tahoe has been as often described as San Fran- 
cisco ; but as every pair of eyes looks at the world from 
its own point of view, perhaps I may be allowed to tell 
briefly what I saw. Lake Tahoe has only been known 
a few decades, while the sights of Greece and Egypt 
were described two thousand years ago, and are still 
"written up" in newspapers and periodicals. 

Until two years ago the time-tables of the Central 
Pacific were so arranged that the passengers lost all 
the fine mountain scenery between Sacramento and 
Reno in the darkness of the night, unless they took 



128 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

an emigrant train. Now, however, Donner Lake and the 
snow at Summit and Cape Horn, where the train rounds 
a mass of precipitious rock over an abyss two thousand 
feet below, and the thirty-four miles of snow-sheds, which 
cost the company three hundred and fifty thousand dol- 
lars, can be seen by getting up at five o'clock. Previous 
to this we come upon one of the curiosities of Califor- 
nia, — a ferry-boat four hundred and twenty-four feet 
long and one hundred and sixteen wide, which carries 
the whole train across a branch of the San Francisco 
Bay, thirty miles from the city. It is dark, and the 
motion is imperceptible. " What are we stopping here 
for so long? " asks a lady of the porter. " We are on a 
ferry." " But why don't they start ? " " Why, we are 
half-way over ! " It must be admitted that although 
the change in the time-table is an improvement, much 
of the Sierra scenery still remains unseen, being liid- 
den by the snow-sheds in which the train moves along 
mile after mile, as in an interminable tunnel. There 
are a few gaps and window-holes here and there, but 
not nearly enough to give the passengers a satisfac- 
tory view of either the mountains, or of the lovely 
Donner Lake. This lake is otherwise unfortunate in 
having the attention drawn from its fine elongated 
outlines and mountainous surroundings by the eter- 
nal tale which some one in every seat is sure to tell 
of the unfortunate Donner party of emigrants who were 
snowed in here, and lost thirty-four of their eighty-one 
members through cold and starvation ; or else some one 
will begin to tell of big hauls of trout recently made, 
for Donner Lake is as full of trout as Tahoe, and more 
convenient to the city markets. 

At Truckee we leave the train to connect with the 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 129 

Tahoe stage. This is only a rough, lumbering town, 
but the laws of etiquette are enforced all the same ; for 
in the hotel office a notice is posted, that " Gents are 
Requested to wear their Coats in the Dining-room." 
We comply with this rule the more readily as the 
temperature at this early morning hour, and at this 
height, offers no inducement for sitting in our shirt- 
sleeves. We find that although our train was on time, 
the stage with which we were to connect had left with- 
out us. The stage company is in an evil predicament. It 
has fifteen miles to cover between Truckee and Tahoe ; 
and if it waits for the train, the boat at Tahoe City 
probably will not wait for it. However, an extra stage 
was provided for our party, and the driver informed us 
that if we had come a day sooner we should have been 
caught in a first-class snow-storm (this was about the 
middle of IMay). To-day, however, the sun was out 
bright and warm, melting the snow rapidly, without 
thereby improving the road. The trees still had on a 
snow-costume, fitting as snugly as if tailor-made, so that 
wliile there was not a speck in the blue sky, every 
gust of wind sprinkled us with a shower of loose snow 
and solid crystals. The extraordinary difference in Cal- 
ifornia between shade and sunshine was prettily dem- 
onstrated by the fact that although the sun had already 
melted the snow on and near the small shrubs, little 
patches of it remained wherever a tiny isolated plant 
of six inches cast its little streak of shade. 

The road keeps alongside of the rapid Truckee River, 
which forms the outlet of Lake Tahoe and connects it 
with the great Pyramid Lake in Nevada, — being, there- 
fore, like the Niagara, not a river in the ordinary accep- 
tation of the term, having its source directly in the 



130 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

springs or melting snows and its moutli in the ocean, 
but a mere connecting link between two fresh-water 
lakes entirely isolated from the ocean. As both these 
lakes are alive with trout , — Pyramid even more than 
Tahoe, owing to its greater size and difficulty of access, 
— it may be imagined that the Truckee is good fishing- 
ground. Not so good, however, as it used to be; for 
whereas formerly the trout used to come up the Truckee 
from Pyramid Lake in great numbers to spawn in 
Tahoe, a dozen dams are now in the way, impeding 
their progress ; and the difference this makes is already 
so perceptible that last year the fish commissioners had 
to place half a million young trout in Tahoe, and this 
year a still larger number was to be put in, since in a 
lake twenty-two miles long and ten wide, half a million 
is after all a mere handful. Besides trout, there are 
many whitefish, suckers, chubs, and other fish in this 
river, and the driver showed us a deep pool in which 
some law-breaking Chinamen once killed over three 
thousand pounds of fish by a dynamite explosion. 

The Truckee River is also utilized by the lumbermen 
to float their logs to market. We saw many of the 
loggers rolling in the timber and wading in the snow- 
water with their big rubber boots. Thej get five dollars 
a day and board, whicli is not too much, considering 
that their amphibious life in ice-water exposes them to 
rheumatism and pneumonia; Avhile at the same time 
they are sure to earn their wages, since they have to 
keep at work briskly all the time in order to keep warm. 
Slides are to be seen on the mountain sides, on which 
the timber is shot down into the wafer, and the driver 
had a story of an Indian who once for a bottle of whis- 
key tobogganed down on one of these logs, sa^dng him- 



lakj: tahoe and Virginia city. 131 

self by a plunge in the pool at tlie end. It sounded like 
a " California story," but was told with so much cir- 
cumstantial detail that we were forced to believe it. 
Near its outlet at the lake the river is dammed, and 
whenever desirable the floodgates are opened, and the 
rush of liberated waters carries the timber down to the 
station. 

By and by, when the population of San Francisco has 
reached over half a million, this dam will doubtless be 
raised a few feet and the Truckee outlet converted into 
an aqueduct. It will cost a neat little sum, for it takes 
the train eleven hours to come from San Francisco to 
Truckee ; but the city needs the water, as its present 
supply is of poor quality and inadequate. With Tahoe 
on tap, the San Franciscans will have the best water of 
all the cities in the world ; for Tahoe has no equal in 
purity and clearness, its bottom being pure gravel, 
without a trace of slime or mud, so that stirring it with 
a cane does not cloud it the least shade. But before 
the San Franciscans can get permission to swallow 
the Truckee River they will have to reckon with the 
Nevadans, who utilize it extensively for milling and irri- 
gating purposes, and who, moreover, own the eastern 
half of Lake Tahoe. 

Tahoe City is situated on tlie shore of the lake, not 
far from where it finds an outlet in the Truckee River. 
It consists of a dozen houses, including a " Grand Cen- 
tral Hotel "' and a boarding-house, the latter being open 
all winter, while the hotel was closed when I was there. 
The boat which makes a round trip of the lake every 
day had left an hT)ur before we arrived, so we were 
obliged to stay here till next morning. But this was far 
from being a misfortune, for Tahoe City commands one 



132 LAKE TAHOE AISTD VIRGIlSriA CITY. 

of the finest views on the whole lake shore. Those who 
arrive in the morning are apt to feel that the lake does 
not quite come up to its reputation. It seems, indeed, 
a large, majestic body of water, and the knowledge that 
it lies as high above the level of the ocean as the sum- 
mit of Mount Wasliington adds to its apparent grandeur; 
but the sun is on the wrong side, and the profiles of the 
mountains opposite do not stand out clearly enough. 
But in the afternoon, and especially towards sunset, 
when Tahoe City is in the shade, and all the light with- 
di-awn from it seems to be concentrated on those moun- 
tain ridges, intensified by reflections from the glowing 
surface of the lake, then the snow-peaks do stand out 
superbly against the blue sky and the golden clouds ; 
and the scene becomes truly sublime as we watch the 
faint, rosy sunset glimmer gradually climbing one 
summit after another, and fading away till only one tip 
retains its tinge, thereby proving that it is the highest 
of the peaks, though seemingly it is not. Knowing the 
rate of the sun's motion, why should it not be possible 
to measure the height of inaccessible mountains by thus 
watching the fading sunset glow on them? An old 
fisherman, to whom I described the Swiss Alpgliiheny 
declared that he had never seen anything just like it at 
Tahoe, but the scene I had just witnessed was a very 
fair substitute for it. 

Strolling along the shores of Tahoe one can enjoy a 
solitude as profound as if no human eye has ever before 
gazed on this liquid mountain mirror in a Sierra frame. 
A few logs here and there, in the water or washed 
ashore, are the only visible signs that man has ever 
been there. The faint, distant roar of a torrent, or the 
mocking of that sound by the melancholy voices of pines, 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 133 

oiily intensifies tlie feeling of isolation. Two weeks pre- 
viously I liad been at the Yosemite, where the flowers 
and bushes were in full bloom ; but Tahoe lies two thou- 
sand feet higher, and some distance farther north than 
that Valley, hence the season is later. The first flowers 
were just budding out here, and the smooth, alligator- 
skinned manzanita bush was only in flower, while at Yo- 
semite it had already formed its "-little apples " a fortnight 
sooner. There, too, the hotels were open in the middle of 
April, while of those on the shores of Tahoe only one had 
opened its doors for the season, and the fire was burning 
all day long in our little inn at Tahoe City. At the 
supper-table Nevada beef was neglected for the more 
succulent lake-trout. They are delicious, especially the 
silver trout : yet I saw a man at the next table commit 
the gastronomic atrocity of putting Worcestershire sauce 
on Tahoe silver trout. Then he called to the waiter- 
girl, a buxom, rosy-cheeked country maiden, for a tea- 
spoon — probably to eat it with. "Great Caesar!" ex- 
claimed the maiden. " Haven't you got a spoon ? Why 
didn't you sing out? " 

Next morning, as the little steamer starts with us on 
its round trip, a pleasant surprise is in store for us. As 
seen from Tahoe City the lake had seemed so perfect as 
to make us fancy we had seen about all there was of it. 
But hardly have we left the pier when new groups of 
snow-capped mountains, grander even than those we had 
been gazing upon, arise where before nothing had been 
visible but a dense, gloomy forest. And when we get 
far enough towards the middle of the lake to take it all 
in at a glance, Ave find that it is indeed a mountain lake, 
being shut in on all sides by giant peaks rising from 
nine to eleven thousand feet above sea-level. There 



134 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

is reason to believe that the site of the present lake was 
once a monstrous volcanic crater. It is now a reservoir 
in which is stored the outflow of more than fifty brooks 
and creeks, which drain an area of about five hundred 
square miles of mountains, and its deptli is from fifteen 
hundi-ed to eighteen hundred feet — water enough to 
extinguish a crater of even such vast size. It is a 
curious fact that this lake, though lying more than a 
mile above sea-level and surrounded by snow-fields, 
never freezes, even in the coldest Sierra midwinter. 
Perhaps tins is due to the frequent squalls which agitate 
its surface and prevent the ice from gaining a foothold. 
These squalls, blowing down the canons, make sailing 
on the lake somewhat risky at any time in the j^ear, and 
tourists desiring a Christian burial for their mortal re- 
mains will do well to avoid sail-boats, because the bodies 
of those who are drowned here are never recovered, the 
coldness of the water preventing decomposition and 
the formation of gases which Avould bring them to the 
surface. 

The steamboat, however, does not fear these squalls, 
which seem to strike only certain limited portions of the 
lake at a time. It makes half-a-dozen or more stops at 
points where there are summer hotels, which are open 
from about the middle of May to the end of October. 
Tallac's opens a few weeks earlier, and I made that 
my headquarters for a iew days. The superb view 
from here includes Mt. Tallac, highest of the Tahoe 
peaks, bearing on its hollow sides dazzling Alpine snow- 
fields, so large that one looks instinctively for solid ice- 
rivers at its lower end ; but the California summer sun 
does not tolerate perennial glaciers even at these Sierra 
heights, and the straggling pine-trees sticking up like 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 135 

stubbles here and there through the lower n^ves indicate 
that not even these snow-fields are eternal like those of 
Switzerland or Alaska. But in early May the scene is 
still quite Alpine, especially the immense snow-ridge 
with perpendicular sides, which resembles the snow-wall 
that connects the Monch with the Jungfrau as seen 
from Mlirren. 

Tallac's is the largest of the hotels on Tahoe, but not 
large enough to indicate that San Franciscans come 
here in vast crowds during the season. The reason is 
obvious. Though scenically incomparable, Tahoe is 
not in midsummer as cool a place as San Francisco, 
which, during July and August, is the coolest place on 
the Pacific Coast. Were Tahoe within eleven hours' 
ride of sultry New York, there would be a score or two 
of hotels on its bank in place of half-a-dozen. Resi- 
dents say it was Eastern tourists who made Tahoe the 
resort it is now. Tallac's is situated in the midst of a 
primitive mountain wilderness, and tourists anxious to 
see a wild animal in its native haunts will have no great 
difficulty in gratifying their curiosity. One day I set 
out to climb part way up the mountain which begins to 
rise about a mile or so behind the hotel. I followed 
a cow-path, but it soon was lost in a swamp which is 
fed by snow-water brooks, and which I had some diffi- 
culty in crossing. Beyond the swamp, on beginning to 
climb the mountain, I soon found myself in the midst 
of thousands of manzanita bushes, which presented a 
curious spectacle. The branches were bowed down 
by heavy snow, which formed a continuous layer over 
them thick enough apparently to walk on. But appear- 
ances were deceptive ; for as soon as I came into contact 
with the bushes, the snow slipped off, the liberated 



136 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

branches flapped against my face, and I was surprised 
to find them covered with blossoms. To add to the 
contrast, several butterflies were flitting about in the 
warm sunlight. It takes California for such odd mix- 
tures of the seasons, — snow-fed swamps haunted by 
mosquitoes, flowering bushes bowed down by snow, 
under a blue sky, and visited by butterflies. 

The finishing touch was given by a large cinnamon 
bear, who suddenly hove in sight only a few hundred 
yards below me. As these bears are considered quite 
as vicious and aggressive, at certain times, as grizzlies, 
and having no means of defence except an olive walk- 
ing-stick, I concluded not to molest the poor beast, but 
edged off quietly to the left, unseen, and made my way 
back through the trackless jungle of the swamp. In 
the evening I met two ladies who had been out alone 
in the afternoon for a walk, and had seen " a large yel- 
lowish animal with a slender body and a long tail." 
They changed color on hearing that it was undoubtedly 
a California lion, and made a vow never again to go 
into the woods alone. A small boy who is attached to 
the hotel as a guide for brook-trouting parties told 
us his bear story, which had a somewhat more dramatic 
climax than mine. He went fishing alone one day, and 
having found a good place, he tied his horse to a tree, 
and started up the creek. Suddenly he heard a crack- 
ling and whining noise near him, and at the same 
moment a cinnamon bear thrust her head through the 
brush. A small tree being close at hand, the boy 
climbed out of reach just as the bear arrived at its foot. 
She was in a dangerous mood because she had her two 
cubs with her ; but it was to the cubs that the boy owed 
his release ; for after a moment they became impatient 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 137 

and moved away, and the old bear followed them. As 
soon as they were out of sight, he slid down the tree, 
ran for his horse, and thus survived to tell the tale. 

The same boy assured me that he had seen trout 
caught in the lake weighing twenty-two, twenty-four, 
and twenty-nine and three-quarters pounds respectively. 
This being both a fish story and a California story, 
seemed a tough combination ; but in the morning he 
took me out in a boat to fish, and as luck would have 
it, we were followed for a time by a monstrous trout which 
must have weighed fully twenty-five or thirty pounds. 
He would not take the bait, however, and such monsters 
are not often caught, the average catch being from one 
to three pounds. I caught three in a couple of hours, 
weighing together about four pounds, and that seemed 
to be considered a good catch at the hotel for that 
season. Fishing luck at Tahoe varies greatly with the 
season, the time of day, and the knowledge and skill of 
the fisherman. The best place to throw the line is just 
where the water becomes so deep that the bottom is no 
longer visible. Row slowly all the time, and let out a 
very long line, with a very bright silver spoon, to attract 
the game. The bright spoon seemed to be of prime 
importance ; for I had one and caught three fish, while 
the boy, who had a dull spoon, did not get a bite. 
Whole minnows are used as bait, and the catching of 
these in a brook, or in the lake with bread crumbs and 
a net, gives employment to a tliin, mummified old Indian 
who haunts the premises. 

Another local character is old Yank, who formerly 
owned Tallac's and now has built a rival hotel on a 
smaller scale near by. Yank is eighty-two years of age, 
and he presents a unique sight, standing upright in his 



138 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

boat, propelling it with one oar and jerking his fish-line 
with the other hand. His clothes are greasy rags and 
tatters, and he himself boasts that his baths are about 
as frequent as the blossoming of the century plant. Yet 
his cheeks are rosy, his frame vigorous, his voice firm, 
and eyes sparkling, bearing eloquent testimony to the 
tonic value of the combined lake and mountain air of 
Tahoe. He has lived here more than a quarter of a cen- 
tury. With pride he showed me some boats lying in 
the yard which he had constructed and painted with his 
own hands, and the use of which was to be free to the 
guests (this was aimed at the other hotel). He seemed 
to feel somewhat conscious of his tramplike appearance, 
and explained that those were only his winter clothes, 
and that as the season opened he would have to di-ess 
up "on account of the ladies." An enormously fat 
and large dog is his companion. " Fat ? " he exclaimed, 
echoing my exclamation, — " fat ? You ought to see 
my wife ! " 

The salubrious Tahoe air is responsible for an appe- 
tite which would fatten a consumptive. But if the 
dinner-bell coincides with sunset and its concomitant 
celestial fireworks, it would be an exhibition of the 
purest animality to go and eat. The end of the long 
pier is a good, place to see the colored sunset clouds, 
but better still is it to take a boat and row a mile or 
two from shore. About sunset the wind usually sub- 
sides, and Tahoe becomes as placid and perfect a mirror 
as the famous Mirror Lake in the Yosemite, but on an 
infinitely larger scale. Here are not only mountain 
peaks and pine-wooded shores reflected in the water, 
but the whole sky, with its sunset clouds, more bril- 
liantly colored and more fantastically shaped than any- 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 139 

where in the world, is mirrored below. The earth no 
longer seems a hemisphere, but a perfect symmetrical 
globe with the spectator in the centre, floating on the 
invisible water like a disembodied spirit. I have never 
been up in a balloon, but I do not believe that even 
ballooning can make one so vividly realize what must be 
the sensations of an eagle soaring with outspread, 
motionless wings through the azure ether. However, 
Tahoe does not need these colored cloud reflections as 
borrowed plumes to adorn itself Avith. Its own varied 
and ever-changing surface-colors are equally enchanting, 
though more sombre and melancholy. There are sev- 
eral zones of color. The shore is lined with sand, coarse 
as bird-shot and clean as the water itself, and for a dis- 
tance of several hundred yards tliis sand is visible as we 
row into the lake, corrugated by the waves like the tiny 
furrows in the palms of our hands, and giving the water 
a yellowish tint. Farther in, it becomes blue, gradually 
shading into so deep a hue tliat we are ready to believe 
that a ship with a cargo of indigo must have gone down 
here, and feel tempted to dip a pen into it to see if it 
will do to write with ; but dip up a glassful, and it is as 
clear and colorless as if it had just spouted from an 
artesian well, and as cold. 

An artist endowed with the courage to reproduce 
these colors realistically would surely be denounced 
by the critics as a visionary idealist. But no artist 
could ever paint them as they appear to the eye, be- 
cause no palette has ever held colors so rich and deep 
and at the same time so delicate and transparent. And 
still less than the sombre brilliancy of these colors could 
a painter reproduce an idea of their movements, in 
which lies half their charm. Cloud shadows climbing 



140 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

up a mountain side are a fascinating sight, but not to be 
compared with the spectacle of the irregular patches 
of color that are chased by the wind across the crests of 
the Tahoe wavelets, like semi-liquid purple, green and 
violet mists, vanishing in the distance into air, and fol- 
lowed by other color-waves in rapid succession. The 
best place to enjoy this unique spectacle is not in front 
of the hotel, where the trees act as a wind-break, but to 
the left, near the first bridge. As I stood here the first 
morning, a Ijrisk breeze was blowing, with a clear blue 
sky overhead. Looking leewards, the water nearest the 
shore appeared gray, bordered by a light violet, with 
yellowish and purple patches ; then came a deep green 
streak, followed by a broader indigo band, and finally a 
deep violet field, bounded by a faint mist raised a little 
above the surface of the water and slightly veiling the 
mountains. Every morning the details were new, and 
would have been so, no doubt, had I remained four 
hundred instead of four days. Tourists go into raptures 
over the waving motions of the Western wheat-fields, but 
what are these monochromes to the polyclu'omatic waves 
that chase one another across Tahoe? 

In making the circuit of the lake, we had passed a 
place where a railway Avas seen climbing up the steep 
lake-side, not far from the little town of Glenbrook. 
This railroad is a connecting link between Lake Tahoe 
and the distant silver mines at Virginia City. At first 
sight the connection between an inclined railway on the 
shore of Lake Tahoe and the Virginia City silver mines 
seems as enigmatic as that pointed out by Darwin as 
existing between old maids and clover-fields. But the 
mystery is easily explained. Nevada is as treeless as 
the greater part of Spain ; wherefore the miners have to 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 141 

come to California for fuel, and for planks to build their 
shafts. Lake Tahoe is surrounded by densely wooded 
hills which are gradually being denuded to supply the 
demands of the Nevadan miners. The logs are floated 
across the lake, hauled up the hill on the railway, and 
cut up into boards and planks, which are thence floated 
down in a V-shaped flume to Carson, whence they are 
taken by another mountain railroad to Virginia City. 
No visitor to Tahoe should fail to follow these planks 
to Carson and beyond — not necessarily in the flume, 
but by taking the stage at Glenbrook. The stage road 
to Carson is dusty, but most interesting. The first half 
of it is all up liill, the second half of it is all down hill, 
and the distance fourteen miles. Just before we reach 
the summit, Tahoe once more shows its face and casts 
a parting glance at us. Then we get a splendid view of 
the Carson Valley, deep down below us, and walled 
in on the other side by chain upon chain of bare, deso- 
late, lofty mountain ridges. Unprotected by tree or 
stump, the snow has melted from even the highest 
peaks, and the snow-peaks which we see later (and 
which seem to justify the name of Nevada or "snowy " ) 
are in California. We stop at a wayside inn for a mo- 
ment, and a comely young girl asks the driver if there 
is " room for one more." But a stage is not a street 
car, and the driver had to confess that he was " afraid 
not, Nellie, unless one of the men will hold you on his 
lap." Nellie looked non-committal ; and if none of the 
passengers spoke and offered to take her, this was surely 
owing to bashfulness, and not to a lack of gallantry. 

Once or twice the driver stopped to collect a letter 
that had been placed in a box fixed on a post by the 
the roadside. To prevent useless stoppages and delay, 



142 LAKE TAHOE AND VIEGESTIA CITY. 

these letter-boxes are uncovered, and the depositor has 
to take his chances of rain, which, however, are hardly- 
worth considering in summer. Frequently we cross the 
flume, or drive alongside of it, but of course it makes a 
shorter cut to Carson than the stage-road, and in some 
places descends at such a steep angle that the timber in 
it is said to be carried along at railroad express speed. 
Half a million feet of timber can be thus floated down 
in a day, provided there are none of those jams which 
sometimes extend for half a mile along the flume and 
cause much trouble. Just before entering Carson we 
come to the end of the flume, where the timber is 
dropped, and piled up in rows of interminable length. 
The Carson Valley, through which we had been pass- 
ing, is dry, dusty, and entirely devoid of trees, and the 
town, therefore, with its surrounding green meadows 
and fine rows of shade trees lining the streets, seemed 
like an oasis in the desert. 

Carson, the capital of Nevada, has some good public 
buildings, and about four thousand inhabitants, but is 
not likely ever to have many more. It was crowded on 
this occasion with visitors from the country, and Piute 
Indians with their squaws and pappooses were loiter- 
ing at every street corner. The monstrous, startling 
circus posters pasted everywhere explained this influx 
from the country and neighboring towns. It was nothing 
more nor less than Sells Brothers' " Enormous United 
Shows"; " A Grand Olympian Festival"; "The Eureka 
of Canvas Entertainments " ; "Prodigious, Oversliadow- 
ing, and Enormous " ; " Gigantic, Sweeping, and Bril- 
liant Centralization of Sterlhig and World-Endorsed 
Entertainments " ; " Fully a Centurj^ in Advance of 
all Contemporaries." I bowed my head in awe on 
reading these announcements. 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 143 

The appearance of the women and girls in this circus 
crowd did not seem to indicate that the climate of Carson 
Valley is invigorating, or its resources fattening. Though 
they wore white dresses, they looked so thin and sharp 
that it seemed a wonder the strong wind did not carry 
them off bodily. On account of the circus there were 
extra trains, but not enough cars, so that half the pas- 
sengers had to stand. 'Twas always so, said a local 
privileged jester ; " You never can get enough of Car- 
son." This train, en route for Virginia City, took home 
those who had attended the matinee. For the evening 
performance another extra train was to be sent down all 
the way from Virginia City, which appears not to have 
held out sufficient inducements to the circus company 
to come up, so that " it served them right if they 
got left and had to come down to Carson," as one of 
the passengers remarked, with much feeling. This 
railroad from Carson to Virginia affords one of the 
most marvellous and entertaining rides in the world. 
The puffing of the engine would tell a blind man how 
steep is the grade all the way up ; and how crooked and 
winding the road is, may be inferred from the printed 
notice to employees that fifteen miles an hour is the 
highest speed allowed. Sometimes the engineer might 
almost shake hands with a man on the last platform ; 
and there is a story of an engineer who jumped off the 
locomotive on seeing a red light straight ahead, which 
proved to be the lantern on his last car. Some one 
has added these curves togfether and found that between 
Carson and Virginia passengers travel seventeen times 
round the circle. Several miserable shanty callages 
are passed, half buried in empty tin cans, and as we get 
up higher the outlooks become more and more deso- 



144 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

late and rugged. Even Arizona has nothing more 
bleak and naked than these endless vistas of Nevadan 
mountains. No tree or other vegetation, except coarse 
sage bush. Yet the soil is said to be fertile, and to 
need only water to make it valuable. Deep down in 
the canon below us, where the Carson River winds 
along, this statement is verified by the green fields and 
orchards which border it. Interminable wooden steps 
lead down from the railroad stations to these oases. 
" With water," says a Nevadan, " all the mountain 
sides may be made veritable hanging gardens " ; and all 
that is needed for this metamorphosis is to store the 
winter water in artificial canon-reservoirs for summer 
tapping. 

We are also told that between these forbidding bare 
mountain ranges lie valleys from one to thirty miles 
in width, but hidden by the intervening ridges, so that 
the State as a whole is really not so forbidding as it 
looks. Little, however, has been done so far in agricul- 
tural development, and Nevada is still almost exclu- 
sively a mining State. Were it not for the mines and 
the mineral deposit in dry lake-beds, there would be no 
railway except the Central Pacific ; and as the mines 
now worked are much less productive than formerly, 
it is not surprising that Nevada should be the only 
Western State whose population is decreasing. 

It cost about three million dollars to build the Vir- 
ginia and Truckee Railroad, from Reno, on the Central 
Pacific, to Virginia City — a distance of fifty -two miles, 
although a bee-line would make it only about seventeen 
miles. Three millions may seem a big sum for so short 
a road, but it led to a region whence more than three 
hundred and fifty million dollars in gold and silver have 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 145 

been taken by mule, ox-team, stage, and rail, since the 
discovery of the Comstock Lode, thirty years ago. 
Should the mines ever become exhausted, it would be 
worth while, though it might not pay, to keep up the 
road as a scenic route. As we near the mining regions, 
the mountain scenery becomes more and more stupen- 
dous. We pass through a few tunnels, and suddenly 
a most unique view is spread out before us : a series of 
immense wooden buildings scattered picturesquely along 
the mountain sides, like mediseval castles, though with- 
out towers or other architectural features. Smoke is 
belched forth from the high chimneys, and by the side 
of every such building is a huge gray mound of \vaste ore, 
— the accumulation of years. Other mounds are seen 
where there are no buildings, but only holes into the 
mountain side, looking as if some gigantic animal had 
been burrowing and thrown out the soil. These mounds 
are graves in which some miners' dreams of millions are 
buried. 

As the train winds along and up the hill-side, these 
sights disappear and reappear repeatedly, in different 
groupings, till at last we come to Silver City, the first of 
the three towns which perch closely together on the side 
of the silver mountain, Mt. Davidson, about seventeen 
hundred feet above the river, and as far from the 
summit. Mining is not as profitable here as it was 
formerly, and as it is now a few miles beyond; but 
there are many small gold veins. " Nearly every head 
of a family in the town," says the guide-book, " has liis 
own mine ; and when he wants money, he shoulders his 
pick, goes out to his mine, and digs it, as a farmer in 
the East digs a ' mess ' of potatoes." 

Two miles beyond Silver City is Gold Hill, which 



146 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

once had as many inhabitants as Virginia City has now, 
— eight thousand, — but has only about tliree thousand 
at present. At Virginia City, many pleasant surprises 
are in store for us. In this aerial town, built like an 
eagle's nest on the side of a rocky mountain, surrounded 
in all directions by similar bleak mountains without a 
sign of civilization or habitation on them, you naturally 
expect to take up lodging in a one-story shanty, eat 
canned beef, and sleep on a cot ; but nothing of the 
sort. Crawling up the hill — everything is up and 
down hill here — a few hundred steps, you come to 
the International Hotel, six stories high, with elegantly 
furnished rooms, and fare good enough for the very 
reasonable charges. It stands in the principal busi- 
ness street, which is lined on both sides with not 
only such indispensable places as drug stores, grocers' 
and butchers' shops, but with fine jewelry and fancy 
stores, and even book and music stores. Elegantly 
dressed women, many of refined ajDpearance, promenade 
the streets, bent on shopping ; and, by way of contrast, 
there are groups of squaws sitting on the rubbish on 
corner lots, or following their lords and masters. 

Every block, of course, has its saloon ; for aside from 
the naturally bibulous propensities of miners, the great 
dryness of the air at this elevation creates an irresistible 
thirst every hour, so that the bar-keepers must do a 
thriving business. Excepting this elevation of over six 
thousand feet, there is little here to mitigate the action 
of the sun's rays, which in summer must be intolerable. 
The trees are not high enough to afford much shade, 
having been destroyed, like everything else, in the great 
fire of 1875. But that fire, which annihilated the town, 
as usual taught a good lesson, and now there is a hydi'ant 



LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 147 

at every corner whence water can be forced high above 
the highest builchng by its own pressure, no engine 
being needed. The waterworks of Virginia are perhaps 
the most interesting in the workl — both above and 
below ground. The pipe which bridges the Washoe 
Valley is seven miles long and has a capacity of over 
two million gallons a day. This water had to be 
brought over to Mt. Davidson from the main range of 
the Sierra Nevada, because there was not enough on 
the surface of Davidson. Below the surface, on the 
other hand, there was an ocean of unwelcome water, 
hot and cold, which constantly filled up the shafts and 
had to be pumped out at an enormous expense. To 
overcome this trouble, the Sutro .tunnel was built 
1650 feet below the surface, and almost four miles in 
length. Ten million gallons of water have passed 
through this tunnel in twenty-four hours. A day or 
two can be profitably spent in seeing these hydraulic 
wonders, besides the reducing mills, with their ingenious 
machinery, in Avhich electricity is yearly playing a more 
important part, economizing power by transmitting it at 
different points from the Sutro tunnel, and preventing 
waste by superior processes of amalgamation. Of course 
no tourist must fail to don a miner's suit in order to 
experience a sensation like that of falling from a bal- 
loon in descending a shaft, and to feel a heat more sti- 
fling than a desert blast. It is the strangest thing about 
this strange mountain city that you need only walk a 
block or two from any given point to find a place where 
you can descend from two to three thousand feet into 
the bowels of the earth, till the six-foot opening at the 
top appears no bigger than a hand. 

The miners only work a few hours every day, and 



148 LAKE TAHOE AND VIRGINIA CITY. 

you understand why when you come back to daylight 
bathed in perspiration. After waiting long enough to 
cool off, climb to the top of Davidson. Contrasts are 
always pleasant ; and none more so than this transition 
from half a mile in the dark interior of this planet to 
the summit of a mountain which rises a mile and a half 
above sea-level. Davidson is isolated, like the Rigi, 
and the view is therefore very extensive, embracing a 
large portion of Nevada. On one side is a fine circle 
of Sierra snow-peaks ; on another, Washoe Lake, and 
the green meadows along the Truckee River ; all of 
which, however, — snow, meadow, and lake, — form 
mere oases amid the barren wastes of illimitable gray 
mountain ranges. A flag-pole has been erected on the 
summit of Davidson, and the way in which it is fastened 
by means of granite blocks piled on high and iron chains 
on every side, indicates the strength of the winter 
storms at this altitude. 



X. 

MT. SHASTA AND CRATER LAKE. 

THE OREGON AND CALIFORNIA RAILROAD CALIFORNIA'S 

GRANDEST MOUNTAIN ISOLATED PEAKS OF THE CASCADE 

RANGE VOLCANIC REMNANTS SISSON's INDIANS AT 

HOME SOURCES OF THE SACRAMENTO EFFECTS OF 

RAIN — Oregon's numerous rivers — fish and craw- 
fish southern OREGON A MYSTERIOUS MOUNTAIN 

LAKE THE OREGON NATIONAL PARK THE WILLAMETTE 

VALLEY OREGON WHEAT AND FRUIT. 

With the exception of the Canadian Pacific and the 
Rio Grande, there is no railway on this continent which 
offers to tourists such a unique and imposing variety of 
mountain and forest scenery as the Oregon and Cali- 
fornia, or Shasta Route, which connects San Francisco 
with Portland. For many hours after leaving Sacra- 
mento, the train follows the banks of the Sacramento 
River, whose water in this upper part of its course is as 
clear as the Rhine in Switzerland. No fewer than eigh- 
teen times does the train cross the winding river, which 
at every turn offers a new picturesque view. But it is 
not till Mt. Shasta comes into view that the real grand- 
eur of this route is made evident. Mr. Bryce, in his 
"American Commonwealth," insinuates that there is 
little fine scenery in this country; but if there is another 
railroad in the world which skirts the base of an isolated 
snow mountain over fourteen thousand feet in height, 

149 



150 MT. SHASTA AND CRATER LAKE. 

and so vast in circumference that it takes the train five 
or six hours to get around it, I have not seen it or heard 
of it ; and Shasta is only one of half-a-dozen snow-peaks 
which may be admired on this route and its continu- 
ation north to Tacoma and Seattle. There is something 
absolutely unique about what may be called the Oregon 
System of momitain peaks (since Oregon once embraced 
all this region), beginning with Shasta (14,440 feet), in 
Northern California, and including the Three Sisters 
(8,500), Mts. Jefferson (9,000) and Hood (11,200) 
in Oregon, and Mts. St. Helen's (9,750), Adams (9,570), 
and Tacoma (14,444) in Washington. Elsewhere, as in 
Switzerland, or along the Canadian Pacific Kailway, 
snow-peaks are always adjacent or jumbled together in 
irregular groups ; and this is the case even in the Sierra 
Nevada of Central California. But the 'Oregon' earth- 
giants, from Shasta to Tacoma, are all isolated peaks, 
separated by many miles from other peaks, with only a 
low range of mountains to connect them ; and this gives 
them a grandeur and individuality which is lacking in 
peaks that simply form one of an irregular group. As 
Mr. Joaquin JNIiller poetically puts it : " Here, the 
shining pyramids of white, starting sudden and solitary 
from the great black sea of firs, standing as supporting 
pillars to the dome of intense blue sky, startle, thrill, 
and delight you, though you have stood unmoved before 
the sublimest scenes on earth." 

It is OAving to this isolation that Shasta is the grand- 
est mountain in California. Mt. Whitney is several 
hundred feet higher, but it stands in a region where 
there are a hundred peaks each over thirteen thousand 
feet in height, and therefore is not able to assert itself 
properly. ]\Ioreover, Whitney is several hundred miles 



MT. SHASTA AND» CRATER LAKE. 151 

further south, where the solar heat disposes of the snow- 
fiekls every summer, and does not compel them to seek 
the valley in the shape of glaciers ; whereas Shasta has 
five glaciers, one of which is more than three miles long. 
Jefferson, Hood, and Tacoma also have fine glaciers, 
easily accessible. 

As compared with the mountains of Switzerland, 
Shasta has this advantage: that whereas the former 
rarely, even in summer, have the advantage of standing- 
out against a clear blue sky, which adds so very much 
to the sublimity of the scene, Shasta rears its snowy 
head day after day and month after month into the 
cloudless azure. Late in summer, however, it loses 
some of its grandeur through the melting of most 
of its snow-fields ; and in this respect Mt. Hood is 
superior to Shasta, as it keeps its snow-mantle through- 
out the usual Oregon summer. Besides the California 
sun, the snows of Shasta have another enemy in the 
internal volcanic heat which has not yet subsided. 
Shasta has its big craters, and there are a score of 
smaller ones in the lower neighboring cones. A few 
hundred feet below the summit there is a hot sulphur 
spring, to whose heat John Muir and Jerome Fay, 
being caught in a snow-storm in 1875, owed the pres- 
ervation of their lives. 

One of the best ways to realize the great height of 
Shasta, is by noting the very long time the sun lingers 
on the mountain side after it has set at Sisson's, in 
Strawberry Valley, — fully half an hour. After it has 
gone down, on dark nights in May, a solitary star will 
arise immediately over the summit, looking at first as if 
some venturesome climber had started a fire, dwarfed by 
the distance. One does not realize how jagged are the 



152 MT. SHASTA AND CRATER LAKE. 

ridges of Shasta until the evening sun casts their gray 
silhouettes on the adjacent white snow-fields. 

All this can be seen from the porch of Mr. Sisson's 
hotel — the same hotel that used to feed the passengers 
and the horses of the stages so many years before 
the Oregon and California Railroad was built ; and 
the same Mr. Sisson who, twenty years ago, served as 
Clarence King's guide up the mountain. Mr. Sisson 
now has the satisfaction of seeing quite a respectable 
village which has grown up in the picturesque spot 
selected by him a quarter of a century ago ; but he no 
longer has the strength to act as guide ; nor does he 
need to, as he is well-to-do. Accordingly, I had to 
content myself with one of the Indians in his employ, 
as guide up the mountain side. May is too early to 
make the complete ascent, but Ave thought we could 
get above the timber line at any rate. But even this 
proved impossible, owing to the deep masses of snow 
which carpeted the sombre forest at a height of eight 
thousand feet. Yet the trip proved woith taking 
without the final climb. The path led through the 
densest imaginable forest, and was impeded every five 
minutes by a fallen tree. In looking at the millions of 
dead trees which rot on the ground in these Cali- 
fornia and Oregon forests, one cannot suppress the 
thought, "■ What a blessing this wood would be to the 
starving, freezing thousands in our large cities, during 
the winter months ! " 

It is this superabundance and natui-al waste of wood 
everywhere that breeds indifference in the people of 
this coast and the natives to the devastating forest fu^es 
which occur every summer. My IncUan guide amused 
himself by setting trees on fu-e in several places, and to 









'*' ^' i fl 






;' 


■,#^p1 






V'..'^Hn 


1 




*"« 


^jR 


\ 





MT, SHASTA AXD CRATER LAKE. 153 

the question why he clicl this, I coukl get no satisfactory- 
answer. He also very kindly tried to amuse me by roll- 
ing huge rocks down a tremendous precipice. I should 
have been less surprised than hurt had he thrown me 
down too, in retaliation for the injury inflicted on 
him and liis race by the intruding white man, who has 
reduced the former lords of this region, where they 
could hunt and fish to their heart's content, to the con- 
dition of day-laborers earning their bread by the sweat 
of their brow. How galling it must be to the noble 
savage to have to dig stumps and level roads while his 
squaws look on, because, forsooth, the perverse white 
man will not permit the squaws to do the grubbing, and 
him to look on ! 

Mr. Sisson took me to a small Indian camp near his 
house, where he wanted to engage a man for a job. The 
young buck was gorgeously arrayed in a pair of old 
trousers and a new linen shirt, evidently just arrived 
from San Francisco, with its bosom starched stiffly 
enough for a city dude. He was obviously conscious 
of this ornament, and, probably in consequence of it, 
wanted more money for the job than Mr. Sisson had 
previously paid him. Noblesse oblige ! The squaws, 
young and old, and the children, were all very fat, 
dirty, and stupid-looking, and were crowding around a 
fire, eating fried meat and flat, round cakes of dough 
baked in a pan, looking as if it would give chronic 
dyspepsia to an ostrich or a goat. I was also shown an 
Indian hut where there had been a dance on the pre- 
ceding Fourth of July, white visitors being charged 
twenty-five cents admission. 

One of the most interesting places Mr. Sisson has to 
show his guests is the source of the Sacramento River. 



154 ]MT. SHASTA AND 'CRATER LAKE. 

About a mile from his house, at a place to which steps 
lead down from the railway track, the water rushes out 
from several springs in a great volume, forming imme- 
diately a trout-brook of respectable size, which hurries 
away in the new daylight, as if glad to have escaped its 
subterranean source. These springs issue from under 
Mt. Shasta, and doubtless owe their being to the melting 
of snow and glacier ice by the internal volcanic heat — 
a worthy origin of so romantic a river as the Sacra- 
mento. Near these springs is a valual)le iron-water 
spring, which also belongs to Mr. Sisson, and is one of his 
most important possessions, now that the town founded 
by him is getting to be a regular resort for San Francis- 
cans, Portlanders, and Eastern tourists, not only on 
account of the view of Shasta, but because of the beau- 
tiful forest scenery, and the excellent trout-fishing in 
the neighboring McCloud River. Six large rivers and 
many smaller ones are born of Shasta and neighboring 
peaks, and it is these icy streams that the trout and the 
salmon delight in. The Sacramento itself, however, 
does not afford any sport in this vicinity. 

After leaving Sisson's, Shasta still remains in sight 
for some time; for it takes some time even for a rail- 
way to get away from a mountain, of which it has 
been remarked that " if it could be sawed off at the 
four-thousand-foot level, or five hundred feet above the 
valley, the oval plain thus made would be eighty miles 
in circumference." Some of the views of Shasta after 
leaving Sisson's are even grander than at the station, 
and in certain atmospheric conditions the snow-cone 
may be seen floating, as it were, on a mystic haze 
resembling water. The aspect of the mountain gradu- 
ally changes, and what had seemed smooth, gradual 



MT. SHASTA AKD CRATER LAKE. 155 

slopes are now seen to be rugged precipices rising one 
above the other. 

We now approach that mammoth fragrant forest 
between the Pacific Ocean and the Cascade Mountains 
which is known as Oregon, and it becomes obvious 
at once that the cliief difference between Oregon and 
California is comprised in the word rain. Shortly 
after crossing the Oregon line evidence begins to multi- 
ply that Ave have entered the rain belt. There are more 
deciduous trees, more ferns and mosses, more under- 
brush in the pine forests, and, most significant of all, 
more rivers. California has in its whole coast line of 
seven hundred miles only one navigable river, while 
Oregon, with a coast line of only three hundred and 
fifty miles, has four fine navigable rivers, — the Rogue, 
the Umqua, the Willamette, and the Columbia, — 
with many smaller ones. All of these run from east to 
west, except the Willamette, which divides the State 
by flowing northward into the Columbia near Portland, 
thus creating the fertile Willamette Valley, to which 
Portland chiefly owes its wealth. 

The Willamette has some tributaries which alone 
would make the fortune of several counties in Southern 
California, where nothing can be done without irriga- 
tion ; whereas in Oregon no one but vegetable gardeners 
ever thinks of such a thing. One of these tributaries is 
the Pudding River, along the banks of which many 
charming scenes may be enjoyed, and which is full of 
fish, which, however, have the peculiarity that they 
never take a bait. In the Santiam and some of the 
other rivers the fishing is excellent, and the creeks are 
full of trout and of crawfish, which are delicious, and of 
which I have caught as many as a hundred in an hour, 



156 MT. SHASTA AND CKATER LAKE. 

with three strmgs and three pieces of beef. A favorite 
form of picnicking in Oregon is to take a sauce-pan and 
salt, catch a few hundred of these tender and juicy 
crawfish, boil them, and enjoy a feast fit for prelates. 

The rain, to which Oregon owes its numerous rivei-s 
and creeks, is not as abundant in the southern as in the 
northern part of the State. There is a gradual transition 
from thirty-two inches at Jacksonville to thirty-eight at 
Salem, fifty-three at Portland, and seventy-two at Astoria. 
The Rogue River Valley climate has been described as 
"a compromise between the droughts of California and 
the great rain of the Willamette Valley." Grapes 
are raised here equal to the best in California, and the 
peaches have been known to fetch higher prices in the San 
Francisco market than the California varieties. Melons 
also are raised here in great abundance for the Portland 
market, Northern Oregon (where the thermometer some- 
times does not register above 85° during a whole sum- 
mer) being too cold for their successful cultivation. 
Southern Oregon is at present but thinly settled ; but if 
its climatic, scenic, and agricultural advantages were 
generally known to immigrants, it would fill up rapidly. 

Two large lakes, the Upper and Lower Klamath, will 
in course of time become popular resorts of Oregonians, 
and some miles north of the Upper Klamath is Crater 
Lake, which, although much smaller, is by the Ore- 
gonians considered the greatest curiosity on the Pacific 
Coast, and which used to be, and still is, regarded as 
holy ground by the Indians of the neighborhood. Local 
authorities tells us that " in the past none but medicine 
men visited it; and when one of the tribe felt called to 
become a teacher, he spent several weeks at the lake, in 
prayer to the Shahulah Tyee." 



MT. SHASTA AND CRATER LAKE. 157 

Crater Lake lies in the heart of the Cascade Moun- 
tains, and at so great an elevation — 6.257 feet — as to 
be rendered inaccessible, except in summer, by the depth 
of the snow in the surrounding forests. It is about one 
hundred and twenty miles from Ashland, and may be 
reached from that city, or from iNIedford, by stage. The 
road follows the banks of the tumultuous Klamath 
River, and passes through the Klamath Indian Reser- 
vation, near Fort Klamath, which was abandoned in 
1889, as being no longer necessary. A narrow defile 
known as Mystic Canon is also of interest, and it is 
well to bear in mind that in the older guide-books 
Crater Lake is put down as Mystic Lake. Mystic it 
certainly is, but its present name is preferable because 
more definite ; for Crater Lake is really a body of water 
which, like Lake Tahoe, fills up a volcanic orifice. And 
a most gigantic crater it was, for the circumference of 
the lake is more than twenty miles. There is only one 
place where one can climb down to the water ; the rest 
of the shore consists of precipitous walls from fifteen 
hundred feet to three thousand feet in height, which are 
less slanting than they appear in photographs. These 
high walls, which are mirrored in the water with their 
fringe of trees, effectually shut out the mountain 
breezes, so that the water is placid, and rarely ruffled. 
There is something mysterious about this water ; for it 
has no visible or discoverable inlet or outlet, and yet it 
is always clear and sweet. Fish, however, do not 
inhabit it, probably because none ever succeeded in get- 
ting there ; and even water-fowl, it is said, avoid this 
solitary, silent mountain lake. In the middle of the 
lake stands an island, about three miles long, of vol- 
canic origin, rising to a point eight hundred and forty- 



158 MT. SHASTA AND CEATER LAKE. 

five feet high, and ending in a crater four hundred and 
seventy -five feet in diameter. There are caves along 
the shores whicli may have some connection with the 
water-supply, as a current is observable near them. The 
depth of the lake has never been ascertained, but it has 
been sounded for two thousand feet without reaching 
bottom. 

A few years ago an effort was made to have the 
Crater Lake region reserved as the Oregon National 
Park, and in 1888 a bill to this effect passed the United 
States Senate. As there is much valuable timber on 
the neighboring mountain ranges, and much fine grazing 
land, there is reason to believe that a branch road will 
ere long connect Crater Lake with the Oregon and 
California Railroad; and when that has been built, every 
visitor to the Pacific Coast will feel that he can no more 
afford to miss this lake than the other two scenic won- 
ders of Oregon — the Columbia River and Mt. Hood. 

Going southward towards Portland, the wonderful 
fertility of the Willamette Valley is what chiefly arrests 
the attention of tourists. Wood being cheaper than coal 
in this region, the train frequently stops to get a fresh 
load of fuel from the huge piles of timber which at 
intervals extend along the road, sometimes a quarter of 
a mile without a break. During these stops, some 
young man may be seen running to a neighboring wheat 
or oat field to compare height with the stalks, some- 
times to his disadvantage. But these rich agricultural 
lands were all taken up long ago, and the emigrant with 
a slender purse and a desire for government land has 
to seek a region more remote from the railway. The 
towns along this route, including Roseburg, Eugene, 
Albany, Salem, and Oregon City, have not grown so fast 






s^^^ 






MT. SHASTA AND CRATER LAJiE. 159 

during the last ten years as Portland, or as the towns of 
Washington and California ; but the inhabitants confi- 
dently believe that their day will come when the more 
sensational California and Washington towns have 
passed through their boom period, and they modestly 
claim that they prefer steady and slow growth to a 
boom which too often becomes a retrograde boomerang. 
At Oregon City, tourists should be on the lookout for 
the falls of the Willamette, below which the Indians 
formerly used to spear salmon, but which now serve the 
more prosaic purpose of furnishing water-power to the 
woollen mills on the spot, and electric power to Port- 
land twelve miles away. 

The Willamette Valley, through which our train has 
passed on the way from Roseburg to Portland, is the 
garden of Oregon. Twenty years ago wheat and apples 
were almost exclusively cultivated in this region. Then 
the discovery was made that the soil and climate are 
remarkably well adapted to hop culture, and most of 
the farmers at once gave up their grain fields and 
orchards and raised hops. Farmers have their fashions 
as well as city folks, and they are just as apt to go to 
extremes. The hop-raising business was overdone ; 
prices fell; and now many of these farmers are re- 
turning to their grain and fruit, in which no other 
State surpasses Oregon, in quality as well as in quantity. 

Concerning Oregon fruit I can speak from personal 
experience, as I was brought up near an orchard num- 
bering two thousand apple, pear, and plum trees. For 
peaches and grapes the climate of Northern Oregon is 
hardly warm enough, and the apples and pears, too, are 
perhaps a little smaller than they are in California, but 
in flavor they are vastly superior. Indeed, neither in 



160 MT. SHASTA AND CRATER LAKE. 

the East nor in any part of Europe have I ever tasted 
apples to compare with those of Oregon. Tliey have a 
riclmess and delicacy of flavor which must persuade 
any one that, if apples were less abundant, they would 
be considered superior in taste and fragrance to those 
tropical and semi-tropical fruits which are more highly 
valued because of their scarcity in our latitude. In 
most parts of the East an apple is an apple, and few 
people know or care about the names of tlie different 
kinds ; but an Oregonian would no more eat certain 
kinds of apples than he would a raw pumpkin. An 
epicure is no more particular in regard to his brands of 
Avine than an Oregonian is in the choice of his favorite 
variety of apples ; and there are half-a-dozen kinds 
which I have never seen at the East, and the systematic 
introduction of which in the New York market would 
make any dealer's fortune. 

For some reason or other the Oregonians seem less 
enterprising than their California neighbors, and instead 
of sending their fruit East, they often allow it to rot on 
the trees — including superb plums, and Bartlett pears 
that would fetch eight to ten cents apiece in New York. 
Eastern capital is wanted to start transportation enter- 
prises ; and a still more important desideratum in Ore- 
gon is a larger population. The growth of the State has 
been remarkably slow, considering its agricultural ad- 
vantages and its fine climate. In the census of 1880, 
the population numbered only 174,767. But there were 
already "16,217 farms, and their products are tabled at 
a cash value of $13,234,548," — a curious commentary 
on the exclamation of a member of Congress forty-five 
years ago, that he would not " give a pinch of snuff for 
the whole Territory." 



MT. SHASTA .4J?D CRATER LAKE. 161 

Eastern notions regarding the climate of Western 
Oregon are almost as widely astray as they are re- 
garding Alaska. Barrows points out that, although 
the mouth of the Willamette is two hundred miles 
further north than Boston, no ice has been formed on 
it thicker than window-glass since 1862; and that in 
some of the counties snow has not covered the ground 
for three consecutive days for a score of years. The 
rainy season, which takes the place of the Eastern 
winter, is trying to the patience of some ; yet this rain 
is very different from our muggy, foggy, sultry winter 
rains in New York. It is known as a " dry " rain, be- 
cause however it may drizzle, it does not seem to 
saturate the air and depress the spirits by impeding 
the natural evaporation and healthy action of the skin. 
Doubtless this peculiarity of climate is largely re- 
sponsible for the remarkably beautiful complexions of 
Oregon and Washington women, though something 
may be due to the fact that, as childi'en, they live 
almost entirely on fruit. The heat of Oregon summer 
days is not often oppressive, being generally mitigated 
by a gentle breeze, and the nights are always cool 
enough for refreshing sleep. 



XI. 

PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

A PICTURESQUE SITUATION FIVE SXOW-PEAKS IX SIGHT 

PORTLAND VERSUS LOS ANGELES CLEARINGS CHINESE 

ANECDOTES PROPITIATING THE GODS APPRECIATION 

OF FEMALE BEAUTY SUMMER RESORTS YAQUINA BAY 

AND LONG BEACH BATHING IN THE NORTH PACIFIC 

CATCHING CRABS AT LOW TIDE A SAD ACCIDENT CLAT- 
SOP BEACH AND TILLAMOOK HEAD AN EXPOSED LIGHT- 
HOUSE IN THE VIRGIN FOREST OREGON MOSSES, FERNS, 

AND TREES FLOWERS AND BERRIES. 

If the greatest commercial advantage which a city 
can enjoy is to be situated on a large river, it is equally 
true that of all possible aesthetic advantages no other is 
equal to that of having a scenic background of snow 
mountains. It is to tliis that so many cities of France, 
Spain, Switzerland, and Italy owe their principal charm. 
To find anything similar in the United States we have 
to go far West, and especially Northwest. Portland, 
Tacoma, and Seattle are the three most picturesquely 
situated cities in the United States, and of these three 
I would assign the palm to Portland, from a purely 
scenic point of view. For although Mt. Hood does 
not seem quite so near and imposing at Portland as 
Mt. Tacoma does as seen from Seattle or Tacoma, 
it must be remembered that tlie Portlanders have 

162 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 163 

full-size views from their streets, not only of Hood 
but also of St. Helens, while the summits of Tacoma, 
Adams, and Jefferson are seen from the hills which 
encircle the city. And while Portland has no Puget 
Sound, it is only twelve miles from the Columbia River, 
which is scenically superior even to the " American 
Mediterranean," as Puget Sound has been aptly called. 

Architectural monuments of importance there are 
none as yet in Portland, but the trees and gardens 
which frame in all the houses are equally attractive in 
their way, and, from a sanitary point of view, more 
desirable. Garden City or Forest City would seem an 
appropriate name for Portland, as seen from the Port- 
land Heights, which everj^ tourist should visit ; and the 
Cascade Range to the east, with the Willamette River 
separating the city from East Portland and Albina, 
gives the ensemble a slight resemblance to Stuttgart, if 
not to Florence, though neither of those cities can boast 
of a line of five volcanic snow-peaks like Portland. 

Of Mt. Hood in particular the Portlanders have a mag- 
nificent view from their house-tops or from the heights 
west of the city. Though it is about fifty miles away, 
there is not a hill between to impede the view ; and, as 
the particular Cascade ridge with which Mt. Hood con- 
nects is of insignificant height, the peak stands revealed 
from head to foot in solitary grandeur, with snow reach- 
ing down tw^o-thirds of the way even in August. As 
previously stated, it is a peculiarity of all the Oregon 
and Washington peaks that they thus rise abruptly from 
the ground, without any clustering neighbors to lean 
upon ; and this isolation, combined with the lowness 
of the snow-line, adds much to their grandeur and ap- 
parent height. With such fine scenery constantly in 



164 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

view, and with trees and flowers around every house, 
it is perhaps not surprising that the wealthy Portlanders 
have hitherto shown a remarkable indifference to the 
condition of their parks and streets. The large piles of 
wood in front of every other house appear more useful 
than ornamental, and give parts of the city a semi-rural 
aspect. They make excellent and cheap fuel, however, 
and the large quantities of pitch they contain give 
them a delightful fragrance. Another peculiarity of 
Portland streets is that the blocks are uncommonly 
small. Fewer streets and wider ones would have been 
much more acceptable. The waste of space involved 
in the present arrangement is beginning to be felt now 
that real estate is rapidly rising in value. 

Portland owes its growth and its commercial impor- 
tance to the fact that the Willamette River is navi- 
gable up to its wharves by the largest ocean steamers ; 
so that the rich farm products of the Willamette Val- 
ley can be at once shipped to all parts of the world 
without a long and expensive railway transportation. 

In a book dated 1855 — Thornton's "Oregon and 
California" — we read that "ships drawing twelve or 
fourteen feet of water ascend the Willamette to the 
pleasant and flourishing village of Portland, twelve 
miles below Oregon City." This " pleasant and flour- 
ishing village " is now a city of at least sixty thousand, 
which hotly disputes with Los Angeles the honor of 
being the second largest city on the Pacific Coast. The 
Los Angeles papers claim seventy thousand for their 
city and speak encouragingly of Portland as a promis- 
ing city of forty thousand ; while the Portland papers 
reverse these figures, claiming seventy thousand for 
their city and generously conceding to Los Angeles 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 165 

forty thousand. One thing is certain : that PortLand 
is growing very rapidly, as is proved by official statistics, 
showing that the grand total of receipts and payments 
of money order and postal funds increased more than a 
million dollars from June 30, 1888, to June 30, 1889. 
Portland, however, has never had a real " boom " like 
her southern rival, or like Tacoma and Seattle. Oregon, 
indeed, has been somewhat unjustly neglected, being 
thrown into the shade by her more brilliant neighbors, 
California and Washington. Her growth has been 
gradual, and not by spurts, but it has been as steady as 
it has been quiet, and the total result is surprising. 
Salem, the State capital, has not, indeed, greatly out- 
grown the condition in which it was found a number of 
years ago by Mr. Joaquin Miller, who referred to it as 
"rather thickly settled for the country, yet far too 
thinly settled for a city " ; but Portland has always 
gone on ahead, thanks to the fact that it has been, and 
still is, the headquarters for wholesale supplies not only 
in Oregon, but in Washington and Idaho. This, com- 
bined with the fact that it is the outlet for one of 
the richest grain and fruit States in the Union, ac- 
counts for the metropolitan aspect of Portland. Front 
Street, where the large wholesale houses are, might be 
easily taken for a street in New York or Chicago. 
Farther away from the river, elegant rows of residences 
occupy the ground where a few years ago ferns and 
mosses grew, and the festive stump asserted its omni- 
presence. A large and magnificent hotel has just been 
completed, the Portland, one of the finest and most 
sensibly constructed in the country, every room being 
practically a front room, with plenty of light and air. 
This hotel was much needed. I have known tourists 



166 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

to leave Portland disgusted because tliey could not get 
comfortable quarters in the overcrowded small hotels. 
Cable and electric roads have also been introduced 
recently, and besides all these things, there is evidence 
of Portland's prosperity in the appearance of the daily 
Oreyonimi, which is at present compelled to add four 
pages almost every issue to its usual eight pages, just 
as were the Los Angeles papers during the "boom" in 
Southern California. The Oregonicm is one of the best 
edited papers in the United States, liberal in its views, 
and generally on the right side of important questions. 
It has obtained such a firm hold in Oregon soil that 
rival papers find it almost impossible to make headway 
against it ; and Portland is perhaps the only city of its 
size in this country which has only one first-class daily 
paper. 

Some Portlanders are distressed at tlie fact that Sec- 
ond Street, one of the three principal business streets 
of the city, has fallen almost entirely into the hands of 
the Chinese ; but in her general treatment of Chinamen, 
Portland differs widely from her rival cities in Wash- 
ington. From Tacoma the Mongolians were driven 
formally, a few 3^ears ago, by a mob, headed by the 
mayor and a brass band. Seattle tried the same game, 
but there the mob was foiled by the interference of the 
sheriff. Portland, on the other hand, deals gently with 
its two thousand Chinamen, because they are found use- 
ful, and sometimes indispensable. A Portlander has 
explained this matter as follows : " In a city where 
white help cannot be got at the rate of thirty dollars a 
month for plain cooks and twenty dollars for chamber- 
maids, Chinamen at those prices, either in the kitchen 
or overhead, are a blessing. Indeed, the amicable rela- 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 167 

tions between the Chinese and the whites here is due 
largely to a tacit agreement on a division of labor. All 
over the city you see that the men employed on street- 
mending and other public works are white. Wherever 
you see a pile of cordwood and a man samng, splitting, 
and carrying it in, you will find him a Chinaman. 
When a well-to-do Chinaman wants a drive in a hack, 
a white man sits before him on the box. The Chinese 
have not intruded into any of the skilled trades to the 
exclusion of the whites. Their barbers shave only their 
own countrymen. Their cobblers confine their mending 
to Chinese shoes. Their compositors set only Chinese 
type. Their carpenters are employed on Chinese build- 
ings and cabinet work exclusively. You will often see 
a drayman delivering freight with a Chinese helper, or 
a white gardener directing his Chinese assistant in the 
use of the hoe and the rake. The absurd notion, so 
prevalent in some parts of the East, that the Chinaman 
works for almost nothing, is quickly dispelled when you 
come to strike a bargain with one. If he is to dig in 
your garden as a common laborer, he stands for his 
dollar a day as firmly as the white man. He will saw 
your wood gladly, but he must have a dollar a cord for 
it, or a dollar and seventy-five cents if he also splits it, 
carries it in, and piles it up in your cellar." 

In the country, the Chinamen are even more indis- 
pensable than in the city; and the demand for them 
during harvesting and hop-picking time is always 
greater than the supply. They are hired through the 
agency of Chinese bosses, who send them wherever they 
are wanted, with cooks and a general outfit, and pay 
them a small sum a day, keeping the lion's share for 
themselves. At other times of the year the Chinese 



168 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

are employed in making " clearings " for agricultural 
purposes. Oregon has about fifteen million acres of 
timber land, with a soil that is excellent for grain or 
fruit, provided the timber can be removed. To do this 
with white labor is so expensive as to take away the 
possible margin of profit. But the Chinaman does it 
for a smaller sum, and thus, instead of being the farm- 
laborer's enemy, he enables him to earn a living on the 
ground cleared by tlie heathen. The cost of clearing 
an acre varies from twenty-five to one hundred dollars. 

Market-gardening in Oregon, as in California, is 
almost entirely in the hands of the Cliinese, and where- 
ever in the neighborhood of Portland you see a brook 
large enough to irrigate a garden, you will usually find 
a Chinaman in possession of the ground. Even where 
the gardens or orchards belong to Americans, Chinamen 
are hired to do most of the Avork. And tliey do it well, 
with rare exceptions. Usually they have a separate 
hut, where they do their own cooking; or else they 
occupy a portion of the barn, in which case, if the 
cliickens lay their eggs therein, it is sometimes found 
that the number of cackling chickens exceeds the num- 
ber of eggs found in the trough in the evening. 

To judge by the articles found in their provision 
stores, the wealthier among the Chinese appear to be as 
great epicures as their countrymen at home; while of 
the poorer ones, if you ask one what he had for dinner, 
he will invariably reply, "I eatee licee " (rice). Yet 
they are always glad to get what is left over at the table, 
and this makes it the more remarkable that they are so 
contented with their insipid boiled rice, without con- 
diment of any sort. 

Heathen John is, of course, quite as mlling to work 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 169 

on Sunday as on any other day ; but once in a while a 
day comes along which is marked sacred in his calendar, 
and then it is difficult to persuade him to do anything. 
I once witnessed a curious scene on a farm near East 
Portland. Strawberries being over-ripe, the four Chinese 
laborers had been persuaded to pick all day, though they 
had expressed a great desire to have a holiday. In the 
evening they had a grand performance in front of their 
barn. A whole roast chicken was brought out in a 
plate and placed on the grass, surrounded by half-a- 
dozen bowls of rice-wine, and a number of burning can- 
dles, though it Avas still daylight. The oldest of the 
men went through a series of bows and genuflections, 
and then poured out libations of the wine, after offering 
some to the spectators, who politely declined it. Then 
a few dozen perforated papers with Chinese characters 
on them were thrown into the flame, one after another, 
the chicken was carried back into the barn, and the 
ceremony was over. One of the younger Chinamen 
explained to us that what we had witnessed had been 
done to conciliate the gods. " We workee to-day, long 
(wrong). 'Ligious holiday. Now allee lightee " (right). 
He added that he and the other two young men would 
not have done it, but that the old man was very strict in 
his religious observances and had induced them to join 
him. 

Afterwards we asked this same young man to sing 
for us, which he did after much coaxing, and a solemn 
and repeated promise that we would not laugh. He 
sang three verses in a shrill falsetto voice, each time a 
few notes higher, the effect being similar to that of the 
Edison phonographic speaking-dolls. He accompanied 
his song with dance and pantomime, but when one of 



170 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

his companions tried to accompany him on a peculiar 
instrument which sounded like a cross between a violin 
and oboe, he did not encourage him, and explained to 
us " he no play." 

John sometimes manages to pick up a fair knowledge 
of English, but one word he cannot get into his brain, 
and that is the word " get." Tell him to " go and get 
the milk " and he will have no idea what you want. 
" Catchee " is the word for him ; and if you say " John, 
go catchee liim milk," he will go at once and get it. 
His logic also is sometimes peculiar ; and if you make a 
bargain with him at so much a month, he will work ex- 
actly one Chinese month, or four times seven days, and 
then refuse to do anything on the two or three remain- 
ing days of the month unless lie gets extra -puj. Nash, 
in his " Two Years in Oregon," relates a funny story of 
a Chinaman who accompanied him on a trip through 
the country. On arriving at a steep hill, he got off the 
wagon and made John get off too, much against his 
will, apparently ; for presently, on looking around, he 
noticed that John had crawled up again from behind. 
On being remonstrated with, John exclaimed, " Never 
mind ; horsee no see me get in ; they know no better." 

The same writer tells of a Chinaman who stole the 
picture of a pretty girl from an album and concealed it 
in his room. And an Oregon lady related to me an in- 
cident which gives further proof that John has a sense 
of beauty. She has two daughters, one a very pretty 
brunette of eleven, the other a blonde with irregular 
features and freckles. Lee had one day promised a 
handkerchief to the blonde, but on looking at the two 
he decided to give it to the other one. He often sj)oke 
of her beautiful black eyes, "• just like a China girl's," 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 171 

and said he would take her along to China. " How 
much will you give nie for her?" asked the mother. 
" Hundred dollars," was the answer. " And how much 
for the other one?" "Two bits" (twenty-five cents). 
Lee used to tease these children by running away tow- 
ards his cabin with their favorite cat, pretending that 
he was going to cook her for dinner. One day he was 
left alone in the house, and when the family returned 
late in the evening, they found he had attended to 
everything, even to winding up the clock. But at one 
o'clock they were awakened by a most infernal noise ; 
Lee, with the thoroughness of his race, had wound up 
everything he could find — alarm clock and all ! 

Lee always gave the children Christmas presents of 
preserved ginger, candy, or silk handkerchiefs, and occa- 
sionally ten cents " to go to the theatre " ; but after a 
time he became lazy and unmanageable, and was finally 
chased away because he impudently gave notice that he 
would not work the next day : " To-mollow I'll be sick." 

One of the greatest advantages of Portland as a place 
of residence is that one can stay here all the year 
round, as there are very few days in summer when the 
thermometer rises high enough to make one uncomfor- 
table ; while the winter climate is similar to that of Vir- 
ginia. When a few successive warm days do come, 
however, the Portlanders have an unusual variety of 
excursions to choose from. Picnic boats go up the 
Columbia River every day, to visit the Cascades or the 
-^t ^ MultUomah or Latourelle Falls. Others go down the 
river to Astoria and the sea. Mt. Hood can be reached 
in a few hours, and a hotel has been built near the great 
glacier, where fans are never in demand. Portland 
is a hundred miles from the sea, yet it has three sea- 



172 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

side resorts, accessible by rail or boat, which are much 
frequented in Jul}^ and August, less because the city is 
considered uncomfortable, than because all residents on 
the Pacific Coast seem to have a passion for camping 
out a few weeks each year. 

In selecting a seaside resort on the North Pacific 
Coast, the most important consideration, next to a good 
beach, is protection from the cold winds which often 
make even the summer months chilly. In this respect 
the most southerly of Portland's summer resorts, at 
Yaquina Bay, is well favored. It is situated about a 
hundred miles south of the Columbia River bar ; and 
expects to be some day an important commercial place, 
owing to the facilities for transportation of wheat and 
fruit to San Francisco, the distance being two hundred 
miles less than from Portland. At present a steamer 
leaves every two weeks for the Golden Gate. Newport, 
on this bay, is a place of about five hundred inhabitants, 
who claim that their town will never need a fire com- 
pany because the salt spray from the ocean renders 
the houses fire-proof — an assertion which they probably 
expect to be taken cum grmio salis. Yaquina Bay 
formed part of a large Indian reservation until 1865, 
and up to that time the San Franciscans who found it 
profitable to fish for oysters in their bay had to pay 
tlie Indians a shilling a bushel for this privilege. 

The other two seaside resorts of Portlanders are due 
west, — Clatsop being a few miles south of the Columbia 
River bar, and Ilwaco, or Long Beach, a few miles north 
of it. Of these two, by far the most frequented to-day 
is Long Beach, because it is accessible by boat and rail, 
wliile Clatsop has hitherto involved a dusty stage ride 
of eighteen miles from Tansy Point. Ilwaco is opposite 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 173 

Astoria, on the Washington side of the Columbia estu- 
ary, and lies at the southern extremity of the long, 
sandy peninsula which separates Shoahvater Bay from 
the Pacific. A few years ago a primitive sort of rail- 
way was built on this peninsula for the acconnnodation 
of visitors to the seaside, and now hotels and camps 
are scattered alono^ its whole leno"th. There are two 
hotels, but they are expensive and not very good, and 
most of the Portlanders prefer to bring their tents along 
and rough it. A site for the tent may be purchased for 
two dollars and a half a season, and hay for the beds is 
supplied by the neighboring farmers to those who are 
too fastidious to use the fragrant fern which is an om- 
nipresent and irrepressible weed in Washington and 
Oregon. Fern has its advantages, not only because it 
costs nothing, but because it offers no temptation to the 
cows which have the freedom of the camp in the early 
morning hours. It is hardly conducive to comfortable 
rest to know that at any moment after daylight a cow 
may poke her head under your tent and chew up the 
substratum of your bedding. The owners of these cows 
provide for a plentiful supply of milk and vegetables, 
while meat is daily brought from Portland or Astoria, 
and is offered for sale, together Avith canned goods, at 
booths which are more numerous than they need to be. 
One can hardly blame these venders for asking some- 
what high prices for their supplies, but the person to 
guard against is the thrifty farmer's wife who buys 
"store" butter and eggs at Ilwaco and then peddles 
them around as " fresh farm products " at double prices. 
Shoalwater Bay is a famous oyster-ground, and the 
bivalves, together with mud-clams and razor-clams, are 
daily brought over to the camp. These oysters are 



174 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

small and inferior in flavor to Eastern oysters. Crabs 
and fish in great variety are also to be had for a trifle, 
but the popular way at Long Beach is to catch them 
yourself. When the tide recedes, some crabs (occasion- 
ally weighing four or five pounds) are always left in 
the hollows on the beach, where they can be easily 
caught. But once every month there are several morn- 
ings when the tide recedes about half a mile, and then 
the sport becomes lively. Everybody is out with poles 
and large sacks, in which the crabs are packed and after- 
wards gathered in by wagons. Another kind of sport 
peculiar to this region is gathering in the large hake 
(two to five pounders), which in their eager pursuit of 
sardines are occasionally caught by the breakers and 
cast ashore, where they can be gathered in by the hun- 
dred. Larger fish, too, are often cast ashore, among 
them ten-foot sturgeon, and large salmon with a big hole 
in the side. The seals Avhich abound in this region, 
have a destructive and abominable habit of taking some 
favorite tidbit out of the salmon and then leaving them 
to die. These dead fish on the beach have to be care- 
fully covered with sand, or else they become a mal- 
odorous nuisance. 

In the evening the scene along the beach is rendered 
brilliant by numerous bonfires, fed with the logs that are 
scattered along the beach in countless numbers. These 
logs are brought down the Columbia during the high- 
water season, and deposited along the beach for miles 
each way. Some of them, in fact, have been carried to 
distant islands in the Pacific. They supply the campers 
with plentiful fuel, and no one objects to the wasteful 
bonfires, because the stock is replenished every year. 
During storms this driftwood adds a unique element of 



POETLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 175 

grandeur to the scene, the huge logs being tossed about 
like straws by the angry waves, now lifted up straight 
as trees, and again dashed against each other with a 
thud wliich is heard above the roar of the breakers. 

Long Beach is a place where even a victim of insom- 
nia will sleep ten hours every night, and still yawn all 
day. But as a bathing-place it has its disadvantages. 
Bathing on the North Pacific is a different thing from 
bathing on the New Jersey coast. The waves are so 
rough — positively rude, one might say — and the under- 
tow so strong, that ?;here is only one hour each day 
when bathing becomes safe and enjoyable. This hour 
varies of course daily with the tide, and a bell is rung 
to announce it. Immediately hundreds of campers, 
who have put on their bathing-suits in their tents, rush 
into the waves; but few of them stay in more than 
twenty minutes, as the water, even on summer after- 
noons, is rarely warm enough to invite a longer stay. 
That it is perilous to go into the water at any other 
than the official hour announced by the bell is proved 
by the sad case of a young lady, a well-known heiress, 
who lost her life here a few years ago. She was en- 
gaged to a young man, whom she asked one day to 
accompany her into the water when the tide was going 
out. Of coiu'se he flatly refused, whereupon she was 
piqued and invited another young man, who foolishly 
complied with her request. They entered the breakers, 
when suddenly the young lady disappeared under the 
waves and was never seen again. Although a large 
sum was offered for the recovery of her body, it was 
never found, and it is possible that it was devoured by 
sharks ; for these fish are occasionally seen here, though 
there is no danger near shore, and the noise made by 
the bathers is said to frighten them away. 



176 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

The greatest objection to Long Beach is the cold 
winds which almost constantly sweep along the coast, 
very often accompanied by dense fogs. Diuing thi-ee 
weeks in July and August, 1889, that I spent there, 
the sun shone only on live days. On account of these 
disadvantages it is probable that before long Clatsop 
Beach will become the favorite summer resort of Port- 
landers, because it is protected against wind and fogs 
by Tillamook Head on one side, and forests on another. 
A railroad has just been built to Clatsop, and it is prob- 
able that this summer the Portlanders will desert their 
favorite Long Beach and establish their summer quar- 
ters at Clatsop, which has the additional merit, from 
their own patriotic point of view, of being in Oregon, 
while Long Beach is in Washington. 

From Clatsop a very interesting excursion can be 
made on foot to Tillamook Head, where a much-needed 
lighthouse was built ten years ago in a most exposed 
and romantic situation. It stands on an isolated rock, 
about a mile from the shore, and twenty miles south of 
the Columbia River bar. The foreman of the party 
that built the lighthouse was swept away by the waves 
and drowned, when he first put foot on the rock, and 
the workmen were repeatedly in great danger while 
building the lighthouse, being once cut off from all 
supplies for over two weeks by a storm. The almost 
incredible fury of the "Pacific" Ocean when it gets 
roused may be inferred from the fact that during a 
recent winter storm the wild waves broke over this 
tower, the summit of which is one hundred and thirty- 
six feet above sea-level, leaving fish and rocks scattered 
on the roof. One of these rocks weighed sixty-two 
pounds, and is now on exhibition in Portland. 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 177 

Sea-lions are abundant in this neighborhood, and it is 
interesting to watch them fishing for salmon, or quietly 
basking in the sunshine on the rugged rocks, regardless 
of the cacophonous roaring of the monstrous sentinels. 
The Indians have a tradition that pearl-oysters used to 
be obtained a few miles off shore ; but at present the less 
ornamental but more useful rock-o3^ster only is to be 
found, together with mussels and razor-clams, which 
have their habitat on the sandy shore, and on being dis- 
turbed dig their way down so rapidly, that it requires 
some skill to catch them with a little spade. In some 
places along the beach the curious phenomenon of 
"singing sands " is encountered, the sand on being trod 
on giving out a peculiar sound. 

The Elk Creek region, through which this part of the 
coast is approached, is a veritable hunter's and botan- 
ist's paradise. Here bears and deer abound, and more 
dangerous game, like timber wolves and cougars, may 
be encountered, as well as otter and beaver. In the 
south fork of Elk Creek there is good trout-fishing. 
But it requires a decided talent for " roughing it " to 
enjoy all these things ; for here we are in a forest truly 
primeval, where paths are few and far between, and 
where the sunlight rarely penetrates tlu'ough the dense 
groups of firs and spruce to impede the growth of the 
moisture-loving ferns and mosses which carpet the 
ground everywhere. Trees of over two hundred feet 
in height and straight as masts abound, some of them 
up to ten feet in diameter, and therefore too large to 
tempt the lumbermen to destroy them. 

As for these Oregon mosses and ferns, one would 
have to seek in moist tropical regions for anything to 
match them in variety, beauty, and verdant luxuriance. 



178 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

Not only is tlie ground covered so deeply that one could 
walk noiselessly, were it not for the dead twigs, but 
every tree, standing or prostrate, has its green mossy 
cover. Rotten logs are adorned with ferns waving 
gracefully over the lovely mosses amidst which they 
have gained foothold ; and even the rocks, which are so 
bare and bleak in California, are here covered with a 
mosaic of mosses and lichens — green, gray, red, and 
yellow. Of the ferns the loveliest is, of course, the 
black-stemmed maiden-hair, which attains a height of 
several feet along the banks of shaded brooks, and 
looks so graceful as it waves about in the gentle breezes 
that it seems full}^ to deserve its poetic name. Less 
graceful and poetic is the common Oregon fern, which 
sometimes grows as high as California wild mustard, so 
that hunters may lose their way in it, and which is, 
from an aesthetic point of view, one of the most charm- 
ing features of Oregon, since it covers up the unattrac- 
tive gray of the soil everywhere with a delicate pale 
green garb which contrasts delightfully with the darker 
green of the fir-trees. But the farmers look on this 
species of fern as a dreadful nuisance, because it is the 
most irrepressible of all weeds, whose roots have more 
lives than cats. Oregon, it must be admitted, is almost 
as weed-ridden as California. Besides the fern, the 
most troublesome weeds are sorrel, dog-fennel, wild 
carrots, and oats, thistles, and the beautiful corn-flowers 
in every imaginable color. The most curious thing 
about these Oregon weeds is the tendency they have to 
supplant each other every three years, as if there were 
fashions among weeds. But whereas thistles and wild 
carrots and corn-flowers may come and go, the fern 
always remains, unless it is ploughed down persistently, 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 179 

and a harrowing war is waged against the last inch of 
root remaining in the soiL 

It goes without saying that a soil which is so favor- 
able to the growth of weeds also extends a generous 
welcome to flowers. This is most strikingly shown on 
deserted farms where annual garden flowers continue to 
seed themselves year after year, without any care. I 
have seen half-a-dozen garden species of flowers growing 
wild in a place where they had received no attention for 
twenty years. Wild flowers do not grow here in such 
profusion or variety as in California, but there are few 
flowers in California that equal in beauty the pendent 
red clusters of the wild Oregon currant, or the trifolium, 
whose petals are at first snow-white, and subsequently 
change to purple. Lilies of the valley, tiger-lilies, bleed- 
ing hearts, lady's-slippers, iris, columbines, larkspur, and 
many other flov/ers that are carefully reared in Eastern 
gardens, grow wild here in great profusion. 

In the matter of berries, Oregon is greatly ahead of 
California. The delicious wild strawberries on long 
stems are so abundant in May and June that they per- 
fume the air along country roads like clover-fields. 
Blackberries are even more numerous, and a single 
county of Oregon would supply enough for all our 
Eastern cities. Wild currants and gooseberries are also 
abundant, as well as black and red raspberries and huc- 
kleberries. Then there are berries peculiar to Oregon 
and Washington, including the yellow salmon-berries, 
the scarlet thimble-berries, and the odd salal, a bush 
which grows everywhere and is quite ornamental with 
its glossy leaves and bell-shaped white flowers which 
turn into bluish black berries of a rather agreeable flavor. 
Usually these berries are small and dry, but in the 



180 PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 

swampy regions along the seacoast they grow as large 
as gooseberries, and are very sweet, although care has to 
be used in eating them, as they are apt to be inhabited. 
Bears are very fond of these salal-berries. But perhaps 
the most curious berry in the State is the so-called Ore- 
gon "grape," a small blue berry which makes good wine, 
but requires plenty of sugar, as it is perhaps the sourest 
thing that grows, unless it be the Oregon crab-apple, a 
small berry-like fruit growing in clusters, and of which 
a jam is made that would give European or Eastern 
epicures a new sensation of delight. Speaking of ej)!- 
cures, I claim to be an amateur in that line myself, and I 
must acknowledge that I have never tasted any French 
chateau wine with a more agreeable bouquet than that of 
Oregon cider made exclusively of the finest apple that 
grows — white winter pearmain — and kept in bottles, 
unfermented. 

The wild oranges which grow in Mexico indicate that 
oranges, lemons, and limes must be among the most 
profitable crops grown there ; and in the same way the 
Avild crab-apples, cherries, various sorts of berries, and 
wild oats prophetically indicated that the wealth of 
Oregon lay in the systematic cultivation of fruit, berries, 
and grain. 

I have apparently wandered away from my topic, 
which, I believe, was Portland and its summer resorts ; 
but these things may as Avell be referred to here as else- 
where, since all of rural Oregon is practically a summer 
resort. I can only briefly refer to other attractions, such 
as the numerous wild canaries and other song-birds 
which fill the Oregon air with glad music ; or the game- 
birds which may still be hunted but a few miles from 
Portland, — the stoical, hooting grouse on the tree-tops, 



PORTLAND AND ITS SEA-BEACHES. 181 

undaunted by the repeated shots of the amateur rifle- 
man ; the partridges, which do not allow a passing train 
to disturb them at their breakfast in a wheat-field ; or 
the wild pigeons, which save you the trouble of hunting 
them hy giving j^ou a iew shots at them every morning 
on your cherry-trees ; or the deer, which still abound in 
the mountains; etc. But in conclusion I must once more 
refer to what after all constitutes the greatest charm 
and attraction of Oregon, next to the snow-peaks ; 
namely, the omnipresent fir-trees, tall, stately, dark 
green, and shady. Artists and others who have grown 
up in firless countries can have no idea of the true gran- 
deur and beauty of a real forest, of the cathedral-like 
gloom and silence in its midst, of the exquisite serrated 
lines formed by the branching tree-tops standing against 
a deep blue sky, and of the infinite variety of tints and 
shadows produced by the play of clouds and of sunlight 
at different hours of the day. More beautiful still, if 
less imposing, than the full-grown trees, are the yoUng 
fir-trees of ten to thirty feet in height Avhich are rapidly 
filling up the regions destroyed by forest fires. They 
look like so many square miles of Christmas-trees, but 
no Christmas-trees adorned hy Santa Claus with colored 
wax candles ever present so brilliant an appearance as 
those young fir groves when the morning or evening sun 
shines horizontally on them. Such lights and shades are 
to be seen nowhere else in the world, and the tints seem 
so warm and glowing that on a cold morning one invol- 
untarily edges up to them to get warm. 



XII. 
UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 

AN UNGRATEFUL REPUBLIC THE COLUMBIA COMPARED 

WITH OTHER RI\T:RS SXOW-PEAKS SALMON-CAX- 

NERIES ASTORIA AND THE MOUTH OF THE RIVER 

CAPE HORN AND ROOSTER ROCK WATER-FALLS THE 

CASCADES SALMON-WHEELS IN THE HIGHLANDS 

THE LAST OF THE MOHICANS LOW AND HIGH WATER 

THE SCENERY AND THE RAILROAD THE " PLACE OF THE 

WINDS " " SWIFT WATER " A RIVER TURNED ON 

EDGE. 

The proverbial ingratitude of republics has never 
been better illustrated than by the fact that not one of 
our forty-two States is named after the discoverer of 
America. True, there are more than fifty Columbia 
counties, townships, cities, and villages in the United 
States, and thirty more have adopted the name Colum- 
bus, while the capital of the country lies in the District 
of Columbia ; but this district comprises an area of only 
sixty-four square miles, and in a country where so much 
is thought of big things, Columbus surely ought to have 
been sponsor of one of our largest States. An excellent 
opportunity was missed, on the occasion of the recent 
admission of Washington Territory to statehood, of 
changing its name to Columbia. This would not only 
have prevented much confusion in the mails, but would 
182 



UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 188 

have been singularly appropriate, for the reason that 
Washington is bounded on the south by the Columbia 
River, and on the north by British Columbia.^ 

However, even if it failed to use its opportunity for 
adopting the name of Columbia for one of its States, 
the Northwest has done more to honor the name of 
Columbus than any other part of the country ; for here 
is British Columbia with its magnificent mountain 
scenery, more than eight times as large as the State of 
New York ; and, better still, the Columbia River, three 
thousand miles in length, with the grandest river 
scenery in the world. I have repeatedly seen the Hud- 
son, the St. Lawrence, Mississippi, Missouri, Sacra- 
mento, the Rhine, Elbe, and Danube, and none of these 
rivers impressed me as deeply as the Columbia, which, 
with the exception of the castles on the Rhine, com- 
bines the best features of all of them, and adds to them 
what they all lack — a background of lofty mountains 
covered with eternal snow. Grandeur is the watchword 
of the Columbia, which, with this mountainous back- 
ground and the stupendous sculpture of its banks, 
towers above other famous rivers as the high Alps of 
Switzerland do above our Adirondacks and Catskills. 

In entitling this chapter " Up and down the Colum- 
bia " I do not wish to frighten the reader into the 
belief that I intend to take him over the same ground 
— or water — twice, but merely to indicate that Port- 
land is to be our starting -place. From that city 
steamers leave daily to make the trip of one hundred 
miles down to Astoria and the ocean, while others go 
up the river about one hundred and ten miles, to the 

1 When Washington Territory was separated from Oregon, an effort 
was made to have it named Columbia, but it was defeated in Congi'ess. 



184 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 

Falls. The former trip should be taken first, to avoid 
an anticlimax. 

Portland, Oregon, — which, although founded two 
centuries later than its namesake in almost the same 
latitude in Maine, has already almost double the popu- 
lation of the latter (sixty thousand), — is, as I remarked 
in the last chaj)ter, doubtless the most picturesquely 
situated city in the United States. From the densely 
wooded green hills which enclose it on the west, the 
city is seen spreading itself comfortably and without 
unsanitary crowding along both sides of the Willamette 
River, which is about a mile wide at this place. East 
Portland and Albina are on the east side of the river, 
and beyond them, at a distance of about fifty miles, 
this picture is framed in by the Cascade Range and 
half-a-dozen giant snow-peaks. Mt. Hood and Mt. St. 
Helens, both covered with eternal snow, are so vast 
that on clear days they seem to rise just beyond the 
outskirts of the city, and delightful glimpses of them 
are caught in the streets. Less conspicuous, because 
farther away, but still adding to the charm of the scene, 
are Mt. Tacoma and INIt. Adams on the left, while on 
the right, the snowy tops of Mt. Jefferson and the tlu-ee 
sisters are visible. To the left of Mt. Hood the Colum- 
bia River can be seen in the distance, like a silver cord 
showing the way to the deep canon which it has worn 
through the Cascade INIountains. 

Portland is practically a seaport, although situated a 
hundred miles up the Columbia, and twelve miles more 
up its tributary, the Willamette, which, up to this 
point, is deep enough to receive the largest ocean steam- 
ers, although in dry summers the channel has to be 
carefully watched, and lighterage resorted to in some 



UP AND DOWN THE COLTJIVIBIA RIVEIl. 185 

cases. For hours after the day boat to Astoria leaves 
the city, the snow-mountains above mentioned are visi- 
ble on deck, in ever-new groupings as the boat follows 
the winding course of the river. This is by far the 
most striking feature of the lower Columbia scenery; 
for the minor ridges of the coast range are insignifi- 
cant compared with the cascade ridges of the "middle" 
Columbia, and the fir-fringed banks are usually low, 
and have none of the steep palisades and isolated rocks 
which give continuous grandeur to that part of the 
river. The banks of the Willamette River, below 
Portland, resemble those of the Columbia, and indeed 
this river, which is hardly known outside of Oregon, 
becomes so wide and majestic before it reaches the Co- 
lumbia, that a careless passenger would not notice the 
transition from one river to the other. It would be diffi- 
cult, however, to be inattentive here, for the place where 
the Columbia receives the Willamette is one of the most 
interesting spots in its course. The Willamette — 
Avhich should be called the Oregon, since that name has 
been taken away from the Columbia (" where rolls the 
Mcrigfetf Oregon," as Bryant still could Avrite), or should 
at least receive back its old Indian name Wallamet — 
meets the Columbia almost at right angles in two cur- 
rents, being divided here by one of those pretty little 
islands which abound along this part of the river and 
give it some resemblance to the St. Lawrence. They 
are submerged in spring, and but a few inches above 
the level of the water in summer, when they are cov- 
ered with a luxuriant growth of grass and shrubbery — 
ideal grazing-grounds for thousands of head of cattle; 
yet Oregon still imports much of her meat and butter 
from the East. 



186 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA BIVER. 

As the river-banks become wider and wider, and the 
scenery somewhat monotonous, the salmon industry be- 
gins to attract attention. During the legal salmon sea- 
son, from the first of April to the end of July — which 
is also the tourist season in Oregon, since in July the 
forest fires begin which shroud the whole State, with its 
fine mountain scenery, in a dense cloud of smoke, last- 
ing till September — the river steamers are liable to be 
stopped at any moment in midstream by boats loaded to 
the edge with salmon, which are to be conveyed to one 
of the numerous canneries that line the last thirty miles 
of the stream. These canneries are buildings of the 
flimsiest construction, inhabited cliiefly by Chinamen, 
and by young bears caught in the neighboring hills and 
chained to the front door. The salmon are thrown on 
the wharf, where they are seized by the Chinamen, who 
carry them in, throw them on long tables, chop off the 
heads, disembowel and clean them, and cut them up into 
small lumps for the cans — all in about as much time as 
it takes to write this sentence. In the larger canneries 
everything, from the making of the cans to putting on 
the labels, is done on the premises. Some of the can- 
neries are built on the shore ; but as the river, Avhere 
the ocean comes in sight, widens out into a bay seven 
miles wide, the canneries are built in midstream, on 
piles, and it is an odd sight to behold horses — real land- 
horses, not hippopotami — dragging in the nets on these 
flimsy mid-river structures. The river view is dis- 
figured on all sides by the ugly stakes driven in to hold 
the nets that constitute the salmon-traps. The meshes of 
these nets are large enough to allow the small salmon to 
escape, but not large enough for the seals, which occa- 
sionally get into one of these enclosures and work sad 



TJP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA EIVER. 187 

havoc with the fish and the nets. Several million dol- 
lars are said to be invested in the boats, nets, and can- 
neries of the Columbia River : but the recklessness of 
the fishermen threatens to kill the goose that lays the 
golden eggs ; for the Columbia River fisheries, which a 
few years ago were the largest in the world, have of 
late yielded less and less each year, and in 1889 they 
sank to third rank, with three hundred and thirty thou- 
sand cases, Alaska being at the head, with six hundred 
and eighty -eight thousand, and British Columbia second, 
with foiu' hundred and thirteen thousand cases. The 
law is stringent enough, but it is not always obeyed ; 
and it will have to be supplemented by extensive hatch- 
eries if the Columbia River salmon, which is the best 
flavored on the Pacific Coast, is to regain its former 
supremacy. 

The headquarters of the salmon-fisheries are located 
at the amphibious town of Astoria, the first civilized set- 
tlement in Oregon, but whose hoary age of eighty years 
does not seem to protect it against the gibes of irrever- 
ent tourists — probably because it is so small for its age. 
Mr. Joaquin Miller describes it as a town which "clings 
helplessly to a humid hill-side that seems to want to 
glide into the great bay-like river " ; and Mr. Nordhoff 
unkindly insinuates that the most important building in 
the town is a large saw-mill, which is kept busy day and 
night in a wild struggle to curb and suppress the forest 
which is forever encroaching on the town, and threatens 
to crowd it into the river. However, just at present the 
Astorians are very busily engaged in digging away at 
the hill-side and filling up the bay. They expect to have 
a railway some day, which will bring the wheat and the 
apples of the Willamette Valley to their wharves, instead 



188 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA EIVER. 

of to Portland ; but it will require a good deal more 
digging and filling up before there will be room for all 
those products. At present the greater part of Astoria 
is still built on piles, washed by the tides ; and as the 
i:)avements are not very well looked after, tourists should 
beware of walking about after dark. The occupants of 
many of the houses might easily take a salt-water bath 
before breakfast, by simply tying a rope round the waist 
and lowering themselves from the window. 

Although Astoria is only about a hundred miles dis- 
tant from Portland, it has nearly twenty inches more of 
rain per annum, and in summer its climate is consider- 
ably cooler ; wherefore some Portlanders use it as a sum- 
mer resort. A much larger number, however, go across 
the bay to Ilwaco, and camp on the line beach which 
extends for over twenty miles northward. The boat 
which takes them across touches at Fort Canby, whence 
an interesting walk of a few miles through a dense for- 
est takes one to the lighthouse on Cape Disappointment, 
just north of the notorious Columbia River bar, wliich in 
sj^ite of all improvements continues at certain seasoiis, 
and in stormy weather, to detain ships for days at a time. 
The view from this lighthouse of the foaming breakers 
in the bar is splendid, and in low tide the scene is varied 
by long sand-banks on which thousands of seals bask in 
tlie fitful sunshine. These voracious animals do their fish- 
ing in the daytime, and at night their place is taken by 
the human fishermen, who show the same reckless spirit 
in regard to their own lives as they do in regard to the 
extermination of the salmon. In their eager rivahy, 
some of them approach too near the breakers, and many 
have thus shared the fate of the sailors lowered from 
the Tonquin in 1811, which is so graphically described 



UP AND DOWN THE COLUIVrBTA KIVER. 189 

by Washington Irving in his " Astoria." By the way, 
I could not help noting the difference between these 
Astorians and the Granadans in Spain, in their attitude 
towards Irving. Both have been celebrated by him in 
fine volumes of poetic prose ; but whereas in Granada the 
principal hotel is named after Irving, whose name is 
thus heard whenever a train arrives, the Astorians seem 
to ignore entirely the author who has chosen the name 
of their town for one of his most readable books. 

The trip back to Portland may as well be made on a 
night boat, as everything worth seeing can be seen on 
the down trip. Not so with the upper or " middle " 
Columbia, from Portland to the Dalles, which cannot be 
seen often enough, and which present on the down trip 
aspects of the scenery so different from those enjoyed on 
going up, that a return ticket should be taken by all 
means. Such a ticket, from Portland to the Dalles and 
back, costs five dollars, for which you can spend two 
whole days on the Columbia. I have seen a great part 
of three continents ; but if I were asked what I consid- 
ered the best investment of a five-dollar bill I had ever 
made for combined aesthetic enjoyment and hygienic 
exhilaration, I should name this return trip on the 
Columbia River. Tourists who have time for one trip 
only should go up the river, because in that direction 
the scenery is arranged most effectively, becoming ever 
grander and wilder till the climax is reached in the 
marvellous rapids above Dalles City. 

The day boat leaves Portland at six o'clock in the 
morning, and on the way down the Willamette we once 
more can admire the imposing white forms of Hood, St. 
Helens, Adams, and the top of Tacoma, — now in full 
view, now peeping from between the firs which line the 



190 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 

banks. At the Columbia junction the boat turns to the 
right, and makes its first stop at Vancouver, noted for 
its fine site, with a superb view of Mt. Hood, and as 
being the military headquarters of the Department of 
the Columbia. It lies on the northern or Washington 
side of the river, and, oddly enough, almost all the sta- 
tions along the whole river, excepting Dalles City, are 
on that side, the Oregon side being generally wilder and 
less hospitable. The scenic features are about equally 
divided between the two States. Each has its low green 
islands at intervals along the banks ; each its densely 
wooded shores, its bare rocks, precipitous palisades and 
water-falls ; and each its snow-mountains — Hood and 
Jefferson being on the Oregon side, St. Helens, Adams, 
and Tacoma on the Washington side. Generally the 
trees or shrubs grow right to the water's edge, but here 
and there is a strip of sandy beach. On both sides there 
are innumerable charming home sites, on gently rising 
ground, with fertile soil, plenty of wood and water, 
excellent market facilities by rail and steamer, and 
the finest scenery in the United States for a back- 
ground. Yet these shores, which in the next century 
will hold hundreds of thousands of happy farmers, are 
now an absolute wilderness, and an hour may pass be- 
fore a farmhouse or villajje is sifjlited from the steamer. 
Had the unreasoning multitudes who rushed to Okla- 
homa quietly taken up homesteads in this region, which 
is so favored by climate, soil, and scenery, they would 
have avoided their wholesale disappointment. The 
steamship company is very accommodating to the few 
settlers along the river, and stops at frequent intervals 
to take on their lumber, shingles, salmon, farm prod- 
ucts, and to land merchandise for them. In low water 



UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA EIYER. 191 

much ingenuity is required to make a landing at these 
informal stations. 

Two hours after leaving Portland, Mt. Hood, whose 
base has been previously concealed by the Cascade 
ridges, suddenly comes into view, life size, from top to 
base. Were the banks of the Columbia as flat and 
monotonous as those of the lower Mississippi, this sight 
alone would crown it king of rivers. For a full hour 
the steamer sails straight towards this mountain, as if 
intending to land at its base for a supply of ice from its 
glaciers ; but all at once it moves to the left as the 
steamer provokingly changes its course. For two hours 
more, however, the mountain remains in sight till it is 
once more hidden beliind the crests of the Cascades. 
Tourists who wish to ascend this mountain or to explore 
its glaciers and canons, get off above the Cascades at 
the town of Hood River, near the mouth of the river 
of that name which carries the melting snows of the 
mountain to the Columbia. A hotel w^as opened last 
summer, just below the snow-line, so that the trip 
can now be made with great comfort. Mt. Hood is 
eleven thousand and two hundred feet high, and is 
ascended by numerous parties every summer, including 
ladies. Like all the Oregon chain of mountain peaks 
from Shasta to Tacoma, it is an extinct volcano, and 
still gives evidence of its past condition by the sulphu- 
rous fumes which in some places are encountered during 
the ascent. 

Nothing could be more delightful than the ingenuity 
with which the Columbia panorama is arranged. For 
the first five hours, while the banks present nothing of 
thrilling interest, the giant snow-peaks lend grandeur 
to the scene. As soon as the last of these, Mt. Hood, 



192 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 

disappears, the banks themselves begin to fascinate 
the attention by innumerable picturesque formations, 
and a few hours later, when the Highlands have been 
left behind and the banks become lower again, Mt. 
Hood once more comes into view, more and more prom- 
inently, till at the last station of our trip, the Dalles, it 
seems nearer and more magnificent than even at Van- 
couver or Portland. Thus there is not a dull moment 
between Portland and the Dalles. 

The river itself is almost as awe-inspiring in its 
grandeur as the snow-peaks visible from it. No other 
river has ever given me such a vivid and overpowering 
sense of sublimity as the Columbia by its great expanse 
of watery surface, and its tranquil, deep, majestic move- 
ment. And whereas the Mississippi, at a corresponding 
point in its course, is so muddy that one almost hesi- 
tates to bathe in it, the Columbia is so clear and pure 
that in a glass it seems like well-water and tastes almost 
as good. The color varies with wind and weather, but 
is usually a yellowish green, as grateful to the eye as a 
new-mown lawn. Standing at the prow of the boat, 
surveying this vast expanse of placid or agitated water, 
it is a fascinating' exercise of the imagination to think 
that almost every gallon of this mammoth stream came 
originally from some different creek, spring, melting 
glacier, or snowfield — some of them in the Cascade 
Mountains close by, some in the Rocky Mountains in 
distant Territories ; for the Columbia's sources are in 
British Columbia and in seven States and Territories, — 
Oregon, Washington, Idaho, i\Iontana, Wyoming, Utah, 
and Nevada. Think what romantic canons, what vast, 
gloomy forests, these waters have passed through on 
their way from the crest of the continent to the ocean ; 



TIP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 193 

what numbers of speckled trout have darted through 
them in the mountains ; what hordes of big sahnon and 
sturgeon in the Columbia; and what exciting scenes 
they have noted of seals chasing these unfortunate fish ! 
For even as far up the Columbia as this the seals make 
their excursions. A hundred and fifty miles from the 
ocean, they can be seen here basking on a sand-bank 
projecting from an island into the middle of the river. 
Some of them float about on logs, and others swim to 
within thirty feet of the steamer, looking, with their 
heads above the Avater, exactly like swimming dogs. 

About eleven o'clock, as Mt. Hood disappears. Rooster 
Rock comes into sight, and the scenery begins to re- 
semble that of the Hudson River Highlands. Rooster 
Rock is a large boulder Avhich, from different points 
of view, looks like an uplifted thumb, or like a mam- 
moth seal with head on high, just ready to plunge. It 
stands on a projection from the shore, which looks like 
an island, and it has a few small fu's growing on its 
bare sides that subsist apparently on the food of air- 
plants. The interesting points now begin to crowd 
each other, and barely fifteen minutes elapse before 
another of the famous sights of the Columbia comes in 
view, — Cape Horn, which, at first sight, seems merely a 
precipitous rock projecting into the river ; but as the 
boat draws nearer and begins to round it, all the pas- 
sengers rush to the left side of the ship, and a chorus of 
rapturous admiration bursts from their lips. Cape 
Horn is a vertical wall of bare rock, rising abruptly out 
of the water, and standing on a pretty row of grooved 
stones, resembling little pillars sculptured in higli re- 
lief. In the centre of the rock a miniature cascade runs 
down smoothly over a mossy bed. Presently, as the 



194 UP AND DOWN THE COLUIMBIA RIVER. 

boat moves on in close proximity to the rock, another pre- 
cipitous wall, even higher than the fu'st, rises above it, 
adorned with several more miniature water-falls, whose 
moss-grown channels are the only green in the brown, 
rocky scene. Cape Horn deserves its name, not only 
because it is a promontory which the boat has to round, 
but because at times the wind blows so wildly that none 
but steam-vessels can pass, and canoes and sailing-ves- 
sels have been detained there for days. The Columbia 
River wind-current, by the way, is very accommodating 
to sailing-vessels ; for it usually blows up stream, so that 
it is almost as easy for them to go up as down. In the 
future commercial development of this region this will 
be a factor of considerable importance. 

The Master Landscape-Gardener who planned the 
Columbia River provided not only for a gradual dra- 
matic crescendo to a climax, but for constant scenic 
variety. So, after the snow-mountains and Rooster 
Rock and Cape Horn, the tourist is treated to the 
sight of a few picturesque water-falls. The first of 
them is the Multnomah Fall, which is sighted only a 
few minutes after leaving Cape Horn. At first it is 
somewhat disappointing, since only the upper part can 
be seen ; but as the boat approaches nearer, it is revealed 
in its true size, of eight hundred feet, in two divisions. 
It is the death plunge of a lively mountain stream 
which has worn a channel in the rock that looks as if 
a giant had scooped out a wide groove with a shovel. 
The trains of the Oregon Railway and Navigation Com- 
pany pass very near the falls, and always stop a few min- 
utes to enable the passengers to see them. But after all, 
the only way to see them properly is to visit them on a 
special picnic excursion, one of which leaves Portland 



UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA IlIVER. 195 

for this spot almost daily in summer. There is a bridge 
spanning the cliasm in front of the falls from which an 
excellent view is obtained, and the adventurous climb 
down and pass under the falls, through a delightful fern 
grotto and " cave of the winds." The water in the pool 
formed by the fall is cool as ice even in midsummer. 
The picnic parties generally visit another fine fall, the 
Latourelle, on the same day, noted for the beautiful 
cave into which it seems to fall, directly from the blue 
sky, and for the curious markings of its rocky surround- 
ings. This fall, however, though close to the Columbia, 
is not visible from the river ; but only ten minutes above 
the Multnomah Falls the boat passes the Oneonta Falls, 
less high but more massive than the Multnomah. A 
curious phenomenon is here seen sometimes — a shadow- 
fall^ reproducing the water-fall with all its movements 
and its inverted water-rockets. Still another fall is seen 
above the Oneonta, so close to the edge of the river that 
in high water it probably plunges directly into the 
Columbia. 

After this water-fall episode the highland mountain 
scenery again monopolizes the attention ; for we are now 
in the midst of the Cascade range, which is a continu- 
ation of the Sierra Nevada of California. That the 
Columbia should have ever been able to force a passage 
through this lofty chain is a marvel. But then marvels 
abound in this region. Here, for instance, on the 
Washington side, is a monstrous basaltic rock, close by 
the river, completely isolated, without a trace of con- 
nection with the neighboring ridges. It is called Cathe- 
dral Rock, is curiously marked and furrowed by wind 
and weather, and covered in patches by the irrepressible 
fir-trees, which are larger than they seem at their great 



196 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 

elevation. How did this rock get there? It looks 
like a mammoth glacier boulder; but, incalculable as 
is the force of glaciers, no ice-river could have ever 
borne this massive rock on its back. Perhaps jMt. Hood, 
in a volcanic fit, hurled it there. But impressive 
as this sight is, the passengers should not allow Cathe- 
dral Rock to distract their attention from the surround- 
ing mountain scener}'-, wliich is really much more note- 
worthy than the rock itself. Near it, to the right, is a 
mountain about two thousand feet above the river, 
which is an exact copy of Mt. Hood, without its 
snow ; and adjoining it is a unique mountain of about 
the same height, but with a summit at least half a mile 
long and absolutely level. But it would take volumes 
to describe all these imposing mountain formations. 
Opposite Castle Rock, and below, are miles of magnifi- 
cently sculptured palisades, compared with which those 
on the Hudson River are of toy-like dimensions. They 
are beautifully mottled with green shrubs and mosses 
and yellow lichens, and fringed above and below by 
ribbons of young fir-trees. And to think that all this 
superb scenery has been known to civilized man only 
one century ! 

We now approach the famous Cascades of the Colum- 
bia, the place where, according to the Indian tradition, a 
natural bridge once existed, formed by the water dig- 
ging a tunnel for itself through the mountain. The 
legend goes on to relate how the rival volcanic mon- 
archs. Hood and Adams, which face each other on oppo- 
site sides of the river, once had a fight and hurled huge 
rocks at each other, some of which fell on this arch 
which spanned the Columbia, and demolished it. The 
fragments, filling the river-bed, created the rapids which 




CASTI-E ROCK — COLI'MHIA. KIVEU. 



UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 197 

now obstruct navigation. Day excursions from Port- 
land do not go beyond this point ; but tourists who wish 
to get a glimpse of the Cascades themselves, and of 
some of the finest scenery on the river, must leave the 
boat here and take another one about five miles up the 
river, for the Dalles. The Columbia River boats at 
present depend for their existence on freight more than 
on passengers, and the greatest drawback to the enjoy- 
ment of the Columbia River trip is the tedious delay of 
an hour or two, necessitated by loading all the freight 
on the train which takes us from the Lower Cascades to 
the Ui^per Cascades, on the Washington side, and then 
again loading it on the upper boat. However, the 
mountain scenery is very fine at this place, and the air 
so exhilarating that the offence is greatly mitigated 
thereby. 

The government has been at work for about twenty 
years constructing a canal and locks for the boats ; but 
a million dollars are still needed to complete the task, 
and meanwhile the building of the railroad on the 
Oregon side has rendered its completion a matter of 
less urgency. The little six-mile railroad on the Wash- 
ington side, which connects the two boats, is the first 
ever built in the Northwest, and is a curiosity not 
only on that account, but also because it affords a 
good view of the rapids from the car windows. The 
fact that the river is here narrowed to a quarter of its 
regular width, assists the rocky debris in its bed in 
creating a dizzy rush of tumultuous, roaring waters and 
foaming waves o'erleaping each other. It contrasts 
finely with the calm, majestic movement of the lower 
Columbia. But it must be admitted that these rapids 
are not so grand or exciting as those of the Niagara 



198 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 

or the St. Lawrence; iior do passengers ever get an 
opportunity to " shoot the rapids," as on the last-named 
river. Not that it is impossible to do so. One captain 
has taken down several steamers and smashed only one 
so far; but the risk can only be taken in very high 
water. 

Usually the Columbia is very high in early summer, 
especially when there are a few hot days, with much 
snow in the mountains. The difference between high 
and low water is forty-two feet, and some care has to be 
used, therefore, in building houses near the bank. In 
1889, however, there was no snow in the mountains 
to melt, as there had been no snow-storms and hardly 
any rain in Oregon during the whole of the preceding 
winter; consequently the Columbia was lower than it 
had been for .almost a generation ; not quite as low, 
however, as the rivers of Europe in 1132 and 1313, 
when the Rhine and the Danube could be crossed on 
foot without wetting the shoes. Fishermen do not like 
the low water in the Columbia, because in that State 
it is so clear that the salmon succeed in avoiding the 
traps laid for them, including the murderous " salmon- 
wheels," which are turned by the current and scoop in 
the fish, young and old, with the nets attached to them. 
These wheels are especially numerous about the Cas- 
cades, and do much to hasten the extermination of the 
salmon. 

Before the advent of civilized man on the banks of 
the Columbia, the Cascades used to be the great fishing- 
place of the Indians, who congregated here in large 
numbers to catch and dry their winter supply of salmon. 
They were a lazy, cunning, treacherous crew, who gave 
the early explorers much trouble, and proved by their 



UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA KIVEK. 199 

actions that although fish may possibly be good intel- 
lectual or brain food, it does not equally develop the 
moral faculties. For these tribes used to guard the 
narrowest parts of the river, and levy toll on all pass- 
ersby, very much like the robber-barons on the Rhine. 
But that was in the good old times, a hundred years 
ago. At present only a handful of these Indians are 
left to haunt these regions and fish for their daily bread. 
The salmon-wheel has displaced the canoe and spear, 
and the Indian, who used to be so hardy that he went 
about unclothed the greater part of the year, has become 
so weakened by the clothing, whiskey, and vices of 
" civilization " that old and young are now dying out 
rapidly of consumption. In return for all the harm it 
has done them, the government allows the Indians the 
privilege of fishing with spears for their own sustenance 
during the " closed " season. Consequently it is easy 
in Portland during that season to get salmon " caught 
by Indians," or "in the Rogue River." It is well to 
have laws and law-abiding communities. 

One of the most interesting features of the Cascades 
is that the upper steamer can be moored quite close to 
the head of the rapids, where there are some picturesque 
islands. This absence of a dangerous current is due to 
the great depth of the river. The debris which causes 
the rapids has blocked up the channel so effectually 
that the average depth of the Columbia is twenty feet 
greater from the Cascades to the Dalles than below, 
although the banks are almost as widely apart. A 
splendid view of a black forest scene is obtained from 
the deck of the upper steamer before it leaves for the 
Dalles. It is a sportsman's paradise, and a brakeman 
assured me he had seen two bears at once on one of the 



200 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 

steep banks. For two hours after leaving the Cascades 
we are still in the midst of the Cascade Mountains, and 
the scenery is, if possible, more inspiring than below the 
rapids, and the air more exhilarating. It is interesting 
to note the way in which the railroad on the right bank 
overcomes the rocky obstacles in its path, seeking a 
winding pathway around them here, and time and 
again boldly plunging into a huge rock partly project- 
ing into the river, forming a picturesque tunnel which 
looks like a natural cave. In some places there is so 
little room for the track, and the hill-sides are so steep, 
that, to intercept the constant shower of stones, a broad 
roadway had to be constructed a few hunded yards 
above the track. Railroads usually mar natural scenery, 
but this one only adds to the variety and charm of the 
Columbia trip, and ]\Ir. Ruskin himself would hardly 
venture to object to it. The reason of this is that the 
scenery is on such a colossal scale that it cannot possi- 
bly be spoiled by such a tiny thing as a railroad. In- 
deed, one needs such a human toy as a railway and a 
train of cars to bring out by contrast the true grandeur 
of this scenery. 

As we approach the end of the Highlands, the moun- 
tains to the left rise in gigantic terraces, one, two, and 
three stories high, resembling the curious formations 
in the Grand Canon region in Arizona. The view of 
the highlands down the river must not be missed, as it 
is finer even than the view on entering. As already 
stated, Mt. Hood now emerges again, as imposing as 
ever, and the view of it at the Dalles is as fine as at 
Vancouver or Portland. But even without this snowy 
monarch to follow us up the river all day long, this 
part of the Columbia would be one of the most fasci- 



UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA RIVER. 201 

nating, which does not allow the attention to flag even 
after nine or ten hours of fatisfuinw siofht-seeino'. A few 
miles below Dalles City is a formation on the right 
bank (going up) which is perhaps the greatest curiosity 
along the whole river. It is a Avonderfully illusive 
natural fortress, with battlements facing the river and 
the regulation watch-tower in the middle. If political 
exigencies should ever require a fortress on the middle 
Columbia, here it might be constructed, one would 
think, in one day, by utilizing nature's plans. 

The river now becomes narrower, and is walled in on 
both sides by low but finely sculptured basalt palisades, 
beautifully carved and moss-covered in some places. 
A strong wind seems to blow here almost constantly, 
and the water is decked with white-caps, and as turbu- 
lent as the Rhine at the Loreley Rock. We are only a 
few miles below Celilo, "the place of the winds," as the 
Indians called it. There is no swell, however, and the 
boat runs smoothly. Of course, ladies who become 
"seasick" in railway cars and stage coaches may find 
the Columbia in this place equally trying ; but for such 
persons travelling was not invented. All, however, 
should look out for their hats and parasols. I have 
never passed up or down this part of the river when 
one or two of these commodities were not carried off by 
the gusts of intoxicated and intoxicating air. The pali- 
sades are marked by a white line showing the high- 
water mark of 1889. Twelve feet above is the high- 
water mark of 1888. Dalles City is not an interesting 
place in itself, but it is most delightfully situated, and 
seems doubly picturesque after a whole day's sail up 
the desolate Columbia, on which evidences of human 
habitation are hours apart. 



202 UP AND DOWN THE COLUMBIA EIVER. 

Here ends the second or " middle " portion of the 
Columbia. As the word Dalles or " Swift Water " indi- 
cates, navigation is here again interrupted by rapids. 
Thirteen miles above the Dalles, at Celilo, it used to be 
resumed in former days, but since the completion of the 
railway the boats of the upper Columbia have been shot 
down the various rapids, and are now used in the middle 
and lower portions of the river. If a day can be spared, 
no tourist should fail to visit the Great Dalles, five 
miles above Dalles City, where the Columbia, which 
below and above is almost a mile wide, is confined in a 
basaltic channel only one hundred and seventy-four feet 
wide in its narrowest place. It is a river literally 
" turned on edge," and its depth at this place has not 
yet been determined, owing to the rapidity of the cur- 
rent. In that portion of the Columbia lying between 
Celilo and Walla-Walla there is little interesting scenery 
along the banks, but tourists returning East on the Cana- 
dian Pacific Pailroad once more come across this river, 
— the real upper Columbia, — where it again courses 
amidst snow-mountains, and where it still is navigable 
for one hundred and fifty miles. Truly the Columbia 
is a sublime river which some day will have its mono- 
graph, and will inspire as much immortal poetry as the 
Rhine. 



XIII. 
OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 

FROM PORTLAND TO TACOMA VIEWS OF AND FROM MT. 

HOOD AMERICAN SCENERY ADVANTAGES OF ISOLA- 
TION ASCENT OF MT. ST. HELENS MASCULINE AND 

FEMININE PEAKS TACOMA AND THE JUNGFRAU AMER- 
ICAN NAMES FOR AMERICAN MOUNTAINS INDIAN NAMES 

A HOP VALLEY CASCADE DIVISION OF THE NORTH- 
ERN PACIFIC RAILROAD MT. TACOMA ITS FOURTEEN 

GLACIERS AND FIVE RIVERS. 

There is geological evidence that Washington's 
great inland sea, Puget Sound, the Pacific Mediterra- 
nean, once extended as far south as the Willamette 
Valley in Oregon. To-day, Portland and Tacoma are 
about one huncbed and fifty miles apart, and the trip 
may be made either by boat down the Columbia and 
through the Straits of Juan de Fuca into the Sound, or 
by the branch road of the Northern Pacific Railroad 
overland. In either case, if the view is not impeded by 
smoke or clouds, a magnificent panorama of snow-peaks 
is unfolded as the boat or train moves along. Ruskin's 
assertion that "mountains are the beginning and the end 
of all natural scenery " is strikingly verified on this 
route. Oregon without Mt. Hood, Mt. Jefferson, and 
the Three Sisters, Washington without Mts. St. Helens, 
Adams, and Tacoma, would be robbed of half their 

203 



204 OREGON" AND WASHINGTOX SNOW PEAKS. 

scenic charms. All of these mountains, except Jeffer- 
son and the Three Sisters, are seen to best advantasre on 
this trip, — Hood, Adams, and St. Helens before reach- 
ing the Columbia River (which the train crosses on a 
large ferry-boat), and Tacoma at the other end. 

Although these peaks resemble each other in standing 
each in selfish, proud isolation, far from neighbors, and 
high above the general crests of the Cascades, which 
barely rise to their snow-line ; and although they are 
all more or less regularly conical in shape, broad at 
the base and gradually tapering to a point, there is 
still quite enough difference in the details of their con- 
formation to give them a distinct individuality of appear- 
ance. Mt. Hood, as seen from Portland, bears a strik- 
inof resemblance to Mt. Hecla in Iceland. Tlie south 
side, which slopes more gradually than the north 
side, is one vast snow-field, with hardly a dark spot of 
bare rock, till late in summer. In the forenoon the 
mountain often throws such deep shadows that it seems 
as if the snow had melted from its sides ; but the 
noon sunlight reveals it all in its old place. During 
a long warm summer the snow-line recedes consid- 
erably, but the upper half of the mountain is crowned 
with everlasting snow; and it is for this reason that 
Hood seems larger and higher than Shasta in summer, 
though it is half a mile lower : for white makes every 
oljject seem larger or broader than black or gray. Over 
the peaks of Washington, i\It. Hood has at present this 
advantage, that it alone is accessible by a road; and 
more than this, a hotel was opened in 1889 above the 
snow-line, and only a few hundred yards from the great 
glacier; so that Portlanders can transfer themselves 
half-way up their favorite mountain in about eight hours 
by rail and stage. 



OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 205 

Mountains are not only the beginning and end of all 
natural scenery, but they are the scenic feature of which 
one is least apt to tire. A snow-mountain is a fresh 
object of interest every clear morning. Unlike a leop- 
ard, it constantly changes its spots under the influence 
of the sun's rays ; and when these dark patches have 
become too numerous and too large to be ornamental, a 
snow-storm comes along and covers it with a new white 
magnifjdng cloak. Surely the man who has no love of 
mountains in his soul is fit for treason, stratagem, and 
crime. 

Mr. James Bryce, who has given us the most just 
and discriminating work on this country ever written 
by an Englishman, but who, as noted in a previous 
chapter, speaks somewhat disparagingly of the moun- 
tain scenery of the United States as compared with that 
of Europe, was nevertheless compelled to pay his 
tribute of admiration to "the superb line of extinct 
volcanoes, bearing snow-fields and glaciers, which one 
sees rising out of vast and sombre forests, from the 
banks of the Columbia River and the shores of Puget 
Sound." These are encouraging and kind words, com- 
ing from an English source, but they hardly do justice 
to the subject. It is not only from the banks of the 
Columbia and the Puget Sound region that these giant 
peaks are visible, but there is hardly a place in Western 
Oregon or Washington, elevated above- the level of the 
forests, whence one does not enjoy a superb view of 
from one to six isolated snow-mountains. This isolation 
must be again and again emphasized, not only because 
to it these Oregon and Washing'ton mountains owe 
their individuality and unique grandeur, but also be- 
cause the view from any one of these isolated peaks is 



206 OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 

much more striking and comprehensive than a mountain 
view in ranges where the peaks are grouped closely 
together. Everybody knows that the Rigi owes its 
world-wide fame solely to the fact that its isolation 
enables tourists to get a comprehensive view of the 
Swiss Alps from its summit. Now our North Pacific 
peaks are even more isolated than the Rigi, which has 
the Pilatus for its immediate neighbor, and they are, 
moreover, twice as high as Rigi- Imagine, therefore, 
the grandeur of the view from their summits. I have 
made the ascent of some of the highest S^viss peaks, 
and of Mt. Hood; and although in the latter case I 
missed the bewildering view of closely grouped snow- 
peaks which meets the eye on a Swiss summit, there 
was something to compensate for this in the superior 
restfulness, individuality, and comprehensiveness of a 
Pacific scene which included only eight or nine isolated 
snow-peaks, but with an illimitable ocean of green 
forests between them. All the Oregon and Washington 
peaks were visible, and had the air been perfectly clear, 
even jNlt. Shasta, two hundi^ed and fifty miles away, 
might have been seen with a telescope. Add to this the 
mountains which encircle the Umpqua and Rogue River 
valleys, on the south, and Puget Sound with the snowy 
Olympic mountains on the north, and b}' way of con- 
trast, the Columbia River and Willamette valleys on the 
west, and the vast plains of Eastern Oregon on the 
opposite side, and you get a faint idea of the grandeur 
of the view from the summit of Mt. Hood, provided 
there is no smoke or haze in the air. 

I cannot stop to describe all the peaks in Oregon and 
Washington, but a few remarks on the two best known 
Washington peaks — St. Helens and Tacoma — may 



OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 207 

not be unwelcome while our train is speeding on towards 
Puget Sound, through a region which, except for these 
glimpses of superb mountains, would be a monotonous 
ride across a dreary, desolate forest wilderness. 

Mt. St. Helens is so prominent an object as seen 
from the streets of Portland, that tourists are apt to 
fancy that it must be an Oregon mountain, like Hood. 
But it must be remembered that the Columbia River, 
which forms the boundary between Oregon and Wash- 
ington, is only twelve miles distant from Portland, and 
that East Portland is practicall}^ situated on a peninsula 
formed by the approaching Willamette and Columbia 
rivers. Being farther north tlian Mt. Hood, Mt. St. 
Helens retains somewhat more of its snowy whiteness 
in summer ; but there is a place near the summit which 
is always kept bare by its internal volcanic heat. The 
slopes of St. Helens are steeper than those of Hood, 
and its conical shape is beautifully symmetrical and 
smoothly rounded, as compared Avith the more rugged 
Hood, which gives it a feminine appearance. The 
Indians have a legend that when St. Helens, Hood, and 
Adams were created, they were big women who had 
one husband in common. The result was jealousy, and 
a fight in which St. Helens whipped Hood and the 
other mountains, and made slaves of them. In this 
legend the Indians did not, I think, show their usual 
poetic imagination. The lovely, rounded, and regular 
appearance of St. Helens should have suggested a legend 
in which this mountain was made the wife of the more 
irregular, muscular, and sinewy Hood. 

St. Helens, although its slopes are steeper than those 
of Hood, is considered quite as easy of ascent. But the 
attempt is very rarely made at present, because the 



208 OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 

mountain is so inaccessible, — Woodland, the nearest 
place where supplies can be obtained, being nearly fifty- 
miles away, and the path very indistinct. Two years 
ago the Oregon Alpine Club decided to put a copper 
box and a record book on the summit of every snow- 
peak on the Pacific Coast. In pursuance of this object, 
a party last summer made an ascent of Mt. St. Helens, 
of which Mr. W. G. Steele wrote an interesting account 
in the Oregoniaii (July 27, 1889). About twelve miles 
from the mountain they came across Trout Lake, in 
which two of the party caught one hundred and fifty 
pomids of trout in a day. The base of the mountain 
has an elevation of 4625 feet, and from this point St. 
Helens seems higher than Hood, because it rises more 
rapidly from the surrounding country. The main sum- 
mit was found to be 11,150 feet high. " Judging the 
mountain as it appears from Portland," Mr. Steele says, 
" we had been led to suppose that the summit would 
be almost a perfect circle. Instead of that, however, 
it is slightly inclined to a square, and probably con- 
tains half a section of land, or rather snow." Magnifi- 
cent rugged glaciers were found near the summit, and 
on the way up the party made the interesting discovery 
that beneath the confused masses of scoria which made 
up the mountain side, an immense glacier was concealed, 
" which day after day moves downward with its marvel- 
lous load, that is being ground into powder or hurled 
to the plain below." 

One of the most interestingr facts reGfardingf St. Helens 
is that it has given more recent evidence of its volcanic 
origin than any other of the Pacific peaks ; namely, as 
late as 1853 and 1851, if Winthrop and Swan may be 
credited. Corroborative evidence is furnished by the 



OEEGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 209 

Indian name of the mountain, Lou-wala-clough, which 
means, " the Smoking Mountain." 

About thirty miles south of tlie city of Tacoma, 
Mt. Tacoma suddenly emerges into sight from behind 
the trees which had previously hidden it from the pas- 
sengers on the Northern Pacific train, and soon it stands 
before them in life size, and follows them up to the 
Sound, with that peculiar ease which mountains that 
are supposed to be firmly rooted in the soil have in 
keeping up with an express train, — frisking around it, 
now on one side, now on another, like a gambolling white 
elephant. From this point of view the mountain bears 
some resemblance to the Jungfrau; but whereas that 
beautiful Swiss peak weakens the impression of her 
grandeur and power by putting her arms for support 
on the neighboring Monch and Ebenefluh, almost equal 
to her in height, Tacoma stands in solitary grandeur, 
appearing more sublimely isolated even than Hood or 
Shasta ; for the range on which it rises seems merely a 
hill. And whereas the tourist who sees the Jungfrau 
at Miirren, or the Matterhorn at Zermatt, or Mont Blanc 
at Chamounix, is already five or six thousand feet high, 
and therefore gazes at a mountain whose summit is only 
eight or nine thousand feet above him, Tacoma, on the 
other hand, is seen from the very level of the sea, and 
therefore rears the whole of its three miles of sloping 
snow-fields and glaciers before the awed sjjectator. Its 
exact height is 14,444 feet, or just four feet higher than 
Shasta. But thanks to its magnifying snow-mantle, 
which never disappears, and the fact that it is seen from 
ocean level, it seems much higher and grander than 
California's finest peak. Tacoma, indeed, is the king of 
all our mountains, from the tourist's and artist's point 



210 OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 

of view ; for although Fairweather and St. Elias in 
Alaska are higher still, they are beyond the range of 
excursion steamers, and are, moreover, generally buried 
behind clouds ; while Mt. Whitney in Central Califor- 
nia is almost equally inaccessible in the Sierra wilder- 
ness, and in beauty of outlines does not bear comparison 
with Tacoma for a moment, lacking as it does its fine 
conical shape and the advantage of isolation. 

Such being the case, it is surely the height of absurd- 
ity to continue naming the grandest mountain in the 
United States after an obscure English lord. When 
Vancouver first discovered all these North Pacific moun- 
tains, in 1792, he had a perfect right to name them after 
anybody he pleased ; but Washington now happens to 
belong to the United States, and every American with a 
spark of patriotic feeling in his constitution must feel 
that Anglo-mania could not show a more humiliating form 
than in the chsposition still shown by many persons on 
the Pacific Coast, to use Lord Rainier's name in desig- 
nating the king of all our mountains. The same objec- 
tion might be urged against Hood, which bears the 
name of Lord Hood ; but in this case it happens that 
the name is appropriate, for this peak is hood-shaped, 
and the uninformed always fancy that to this fact it 
owes its name ; so it may be allowed to stand. Louwala, 
too, would be a more musical and accejitable name than 
St. Helens, and there is no reason on earth why a moun- 
tain in Washington should bear the name of a British 
ambassador in Madrid. But in this case also the matter 
may be overlooked, since the name St. Helens, like the 
shape of the mountain itself, has a vague feminine sug- 
gestiveness. But for Rainier there is no excuse what- 
ever, as we have an infinitely more euphonious name for 



OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 211 

it in Tacoma, wliich, moreover, designates the mountain's 
character exactly; for in the Indian dialect it means 
"the mountain." The fact that the Northern Pacific 
Railroad, which really "created" the State of Washing- 
ton, by first developing its resources, always has Mt. 
Tacoma on its maps, has already done much to popular- 
ize this musical name, and to oust the memory of the 
English lord; and if all tourists of taste will unite 
in tabooing Rainier, they will soon succeed in effacing 
that name from all the maps. Tacoma cannot fail to 
triumph in the long run, just as the attempt made some 
time ago to name Lake Tahoe after a governor of Cali- 
fornia failed, the original Indian name being instinc- 
tively and unanimously preferred by tourists to such an 
ugly word as Bigler. Even the Seattle people will find 
that they will gain more in the estimation of other 
Americans if they will allow a sentiment of national 
patriotism to override the local pride and jealousy of a 
neighboring town which now make them act in a very 
silly manner when you use the expression "Mount 
Tacoma." 

To those Pacific Coast people who stubbornly cling to 
such words as Rainier and Bigler, I commend chapter 
twenty-three of Washington Irving's "Astoria," where 
he laments " the stupid, commonplace, and often ribald 
names entailed upon the rivers and other features of the 
Great West by traders and settlers. . . . Indeed, it is 
to be wished that the whole of our country could be 
rescued as much as possible from the wretched nomen- 
clature inflicted upon it by ignorant and vulgar minds ; 
and this might be done, in a great degree, by restoring 
the Indian names," which are " in general more sonorous 
and musical." 



212 OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 

In insisting so strongly that the monarch of American 
mountains should have an American name, and not be 
called after an obscure English lord, I intend no offence 
to English sentiment, but merely wish to emphasize a 
patriotic right. No Englishman would fail to express 
his chsgust and indignation if an attempt were made to 
name the grandest scenic feature in one of the British 
colonies after an American president or statesman. 
Finally, it must be remembered that along the line of 
the Canadian Pacific Railroad in British Columbia there 
are scores of superb peaks on which the English may 
without j)rotest bestow the names of earls, lords, sirs, 
esquires, and ambassadors, if they choose. In my opin- 
ion, however, there is something equally ludicrous and 
presumptuous in naming a mountain after a puny mor- 
tal, however great he may seem to his generation. The 
mountainous map of the Pacific Coast is marred b}^ too 
many of these blunders. To realize their full signifi- 
cance, read Tourgenieff's wonderful dialogue between 
the Jungfrau and the Finsteraarhorn, in his "Prose 
Poems." The futility of man's pretensions to immor- 
tality has never been more vividly portrayed than in this 
dialogue, resumed at intervals of hundreds of thousands 
of years, and commenting on the intervening changes, 
till finally the whole earth is covered with a sea of ice, 
amid which the Jungfrau and Finsteraarhorn still rear 
their now silent heads unchanged. 

Thanks to its great height and complete isolation, 
Mt. Tacoma is visible as far as Portland to the south, 
one hundred and twenty miles in an air-line, and one 
hundred and fifty miles to the east. One of the most 
perfect views of it is obtained from the piazza of the 
large Tacoma Hotel. Though it is over forty miles 



OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 213 

away, it seems so near, wlien the air is clear, that tour- 
ists are apt to fancy they could stroll to its base after 
dinner. To see it at its best, however, Mt. Tacoma 
should be viewed from the deck of a Sound steamer, or, 
better still, from the car windows on the Cascade Divis- 
ion of the Northern Pacific Railroad. Tourists who 
do not use the Northern Pacific Railroad, either going 
or returning, should by no means fail to make an excur- 
sion on tliis Cascade Branch, in order to get a view 
of Mt. Tacoma from within fifteen miles of its base. 
To do this it is not necessary to go as far as Pasco 
Junction, in Eastern Washington, where the cactus 
blooms in the sandy plains in June, as in Arizona and 
Southern California ; but one can get off at Clealum or 
thereabouts, and return to Tacoma next day. Much of 
the land through which the Cascade Branch passes is 
disfigured by dead black trees and stumps. Other por- 
tions are in full cultivation, and the crop most favored 
appears to be hops, especially in the Puyallup Valley, 
where these vines attain a most luxuriant and prolific 
growth. Indians are still employed in considerable 
numbers during the hop-picking season, when they come 
in canoes from all parts of the coast. Oddly enough, 
this valley is the most pronounced "temperance" region 
in the Northwest, and one of the largest hop-growers 
will not, under any circumstances, allow a saloon to be 
opened within his extensive domain ; though he seems 
to see nothing sinful or inconsistent in accumulating 
wealth by selling his hops to wicked brewers. 

This hop valley lies between Tacoma and the Cascade 
mountains, and — aside from the picturesque hop-\^nes 
and a mountain stream with waters so clear that the 
passengers can see the fish in it from the car windows, 



214 OKEGOK AND WASHIXGTON SNOW PEAKS. 

for half an hour, as the train speeds along — it is in 
these mountains that the scenic attractions centre. 
Unfortunately, one of the most fascinating and exciting 
features of this route — the Switchback — has ceased 
to exist. This was a part of the road where the train 
ascended the mountain range by a series of zigzag 
movements, like a sailing-vessel tacking at sea. There 
was one monstrous one-hundred-and-ten-ton engine in 
front of the train, and another one behind, and when 
the train had reached a certain point, it was switched 
off and started ahead in the opposite direction. This 
was done repeatedly, until a place was reached where 
as many as six parallel tracks could be seen, each a few 
hundred yards higher than its predecessor. Several 
times the train ran over trestle-works of a most giddy 
height, and looking so frail as to make timid passengers 
wish they were back in Tacoma. But this " elevated " 
railway was merely a temporary arrangement, con- 
structed at a cost of six hundred thousand dollars, in 
order that the Northern Pacific Railroad might not be 
dependent on the tender mercies of the Oregon Railway 
and Navigation Company for a Pacific Coast terminus, 
pending the completion of the Stampede Tunnel, which 
has now taken the place of the Switchback. 

The chief attraction of the Cascade route is of course 
Mt. Tacoma, which can be seen from many points of 
view, as the train sweeps around it in a wide curve, 
somewhat similar to the way in which Mt. Shasta is 
circumvented. When Tacoma was ascended for the first 
time, about thirty years ago, by Lieutenants Kautz and 
Slaughter, the party required nine days from Steilacoom 
on Puget Sound and back. Since the completion of the 
railway, however, a trail has been made from the nearest 



OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 215 

point on the road, from which tourists can ascend the 
mountain on horseback to a height of about two miles, 
where the Puyallup and Carbon ghiciers may be seen 
to advantage. The remaining mile offers difficulties 
and dangers sufficient to daunt any but the bravest and 
most expert Alpine climbers. Perhaps the summit of 
Tacoma will always remain as inaccessible to ordinary 
tourists as the Matterhorn ; but so few parties have as 
yet made the ascent that a route may yet be found, by 
which the summit will be made as easy of access as that 
of Mt. Hood. But it must be borne in mind that even 
from the lower point now accessible to all, Tacoma 
is nearly as high as Hood ; and those who are averse to 
endangering their life for the sake of seeing the craters 
at the summit, two hundred or three hundred yards in 
diameter, now filled with snow, but still having enough 
heat and sulphur vapor in their environs to save a party 
caught in a storm from freezing (see Hazard Stevens's 
article in Atlantic Monthly^ November, 1876), will thus 
find infinite enjoyment in viewing the extensive scene, 
and in exploring the glaciers and the grand caiions lead- 
ing from them, with the rivers of ice-water and their in- 
numerable rapids, cascades, and falls. There are fourteen 
living glaciers on the sides of Tacoma. At the latitude 
of this mountain the vast snow-fields cannot disappear 
airwards by evaporation, and therefore they follow the 
law of gravitation downwards as glaciers^ till the melt- 
ing-line is reached, which becomes the birthplace of 
mighty rivers. Of these solidified snow-fields, or ice- 
rivers, some are from two to four miles wide, and the 
Nesqually, Wenass, and White RiA^er glaciers are respec- 
tively four, five, and ten miles long. Of the rivers 
which find their sources in Tacoma's glaciers, five are 



216 OREGON AND WASHINGTON SNOW PEAKS. 

from seventy to a hundred miles long, and three — the 
White, Puyallup, and Cowlitz — are navigable. 

Surely there is reason to believe that when tourists 
once begin to realize the grandeur and the still largely 
unexplored attractions of the mountain region of our 
Northwest, Switzerland wall be neglected for a time, and 
the cities of Tacoma and Portland will become the 
Interlaken and the Zermatt of America. 



XIV. 
THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 

A STRANGE FACT HISTORY OF TACOMA ADVANTAGES OF 

ITS SITUATION NAVIGATION FORESTS AND SAW-MILLS 

SPLENDORS AND DISADVANTAGES OF FOREST FIRES 

COAL-FIELDS OF WASHINGTON SCENIC FEATURES OF 

PUGET SOUND OLYMPIA SEATTLE SINCE THE FIRE 

THE OLYMPIC MOUNTAINS — PORT TOWNSEND. 

Students of American history, a few generations 
hence, will find it difficult to believe that the magnif- 
icent Puget Sound region in Washington, which offers 
such unequalled advantages for navigation, commerce, 
lumbering, agriculture, and mining, should have remained 
almost entirely undeveloped till the last quarter of the 
nineteenth century, almost a hundred years after the 
exploration of this fine and tortuous inland sea by Van- 
couver. Indeed, it seems probable that the end of this 
century might have been reached without a general 
appreciation of the manifold attractions of Western and 
Eastern Washington had it not been for the building of 
the Northern Pacific Railroad, which has been practically 
the creator of this State. In the few years since its 
completion it has been demonstrated that if the United 
States authorities had carried out the intention held at 
one time of ceding this territory to England, as an 
expression of good will, they would have given away a 

217 



218 THE AZVIERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 

State as ricli in natural resources as New York or Penn- 
sylvania, either of which it exceeds in dimensions by 
one-half. 

No spot in Washington has been so literally created by 
the Northern Pacific Railroad as " the City of Destiny," 
Tacoma ; for when the decision was announced in 1873 
of making this spot the terminus of the new transconti- 
nental railroad, the old village of Tacoma had only 
three liundi-ed inhabitants, and on the site of New 
Tacoma there was nothing but a dilapidated log cabin. 
In 1886 the post-office business at Tacoma amounted 
to $9,040, and in 1889 to $32,446 ; and it is assumed 
that these dollars in each case represent an equal num- 
ber of inhabitants. 

The selection of Tacoma seems to have been deter- 
mined by considerations similar to those which made 
Portland the " City of Destiny " in Oregon. As Portland 
was built at the highest point on the Willamette River 
where ocean vessels can go with ease and safety, so 
Tacoma has been located at the most convenient south- 
ern branch of Puget Sound which ocean vessels can 
reach at all times, independent of the tide. The State 
capital lies further south still, it is true, but its arm of 
the Sound is so much affected by the tide that a wharf 
had to be built projecting almost a mile into the bay. 
The Tacoma harbor, on the other hand, has forty to 
seventy-five fathoms of water, and shippers are inclined 
to growl that it is too deep, Avhich makes anchoring at 
some places inconvenient. It is on this fine harbor, as 
much as on the fact of its being the terminus of the 
Northern Pacific Railroad, that Tacoma bases its hope of 
taking a large part of the exceedingly profitable Oriental 
trade from the British, and also from the San Francis- 



THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 219 

cans. Tacoma is about three hundred miles nearer to 
Canton than San Francisco, which makes a day's differ- 
ence in its favor each way. Among the chief articles 
imported by the Asiatics in return for their teas and 
silks, are flour, canned goods, and lumber, all of which, 
and especially the last, Tacoma is eminently qualified to 
provide. Seventeen years ago its site was a dense forest, 
and dense forests still cover the greater part of the Puget 
Sound region and Western Washington, and will for 
centuries to come, even at the present rate of wholesale 
destruction. It has been estimated that the forest 
district of the State includes 175,000,000,000 feet of 
lumber. 

What threatens to exterminate the superb forests 
of Washington and Oregon is not so much the lumber- 
man's axe as the forest fires, which, instead of dimin- 
ishing year by year, seem to increase in frequency and 
extent. They are caused by camp-fires left burning by 
careless hunters or Indians, or by sparks from railway 
engines. But even when there are no extensive fires 
originating in this way, the summer air in Washington 
and Oregon is odorous, pungent to the eyes, and opaque 
from the innumerable clearings, or places where farmers 
burn down their dense timber to secure land for the 
plough. A volcano in full activity could hardly be a 
more brilliant and thrilling sight than the dazzling 
nocturnal splendor of these fires — the united brilliancy 
of scores or hundreds of blazing fir-trees, some lying pros- 
trate in confused groups, others, several hundred feet 
high, standing in solemn array, like condemned crim- 
inals, until the flames rush up to their tops and bring 
them down too, or else leave them standing as blackened, 
ghastly trunks. These transitory fireworks, however, 



220 THE AMERICAN MEDITERRAISTEAN. 

do not compensate settlers in the long run for the loss 
of so much valuable timber, or tourists for missing 
sight of the snow-mountains. I have often seen the 
sun here day after day looking like a full red moon, and 
the air is for weeks so densely filled with smoke that 
the eyes become inflamed. Indeed, unless there has 
been a shower, tourists have little chance of seeing 
Mts. Hood or Tacoma in July or August. Owing 
to Tacoma's destiny of becoming the American Inter- 
laken, this is a matter of some importance ; but little 
can be done to remedy the evil until the national gov- 
ernment can be induced to spend some of the surplus 
in the treasury on measures for the protection of our 
Northern forests, — the envy of the whole civilized world. 

The lumber business is still the most important in- 
dustry in Tacoma, and will probably long remain so. 
In 1873 there was one saw-mill on the premises, and 
now there are seventeen, employing nearly fifteen hun- 
dred men, and with a combined capacity for turning out 
more than a million and a quarter feet a day. It is 
interesting to see these mills at work. There is one at 
which the steamers on the way to Olympia stop to take in 
water, so that passengers have time to watch the chain 
wliich, like a moving cable, carries down the d(^bris 
of the timber in a flume-like trough, high in the air, 
and throws it down on a pile wliich is kept burning 
constantly. One cannot suppress the thought what a 
boon the fuel thus wasted would be to the poor in our 
Eastern cities. Vessels are always seen loading to carry 
the available part of the timber to all parts of the world. 

But although lumber is the staj)le of Tacoma's trade, 
the city's prosperous growth would hardly be arrested 
by a decline in this business ; for its importance as a 



THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 221 

centre for the exportation of wheat and coal will grow 
much more rapidly than the forests diminish. As the 
timber is cleared away, the farmers can take possession 
of the soil, which yields heavy crops of the best wheat. 
Puget Sound extends from north to south about one 
hundred and twenty miles, and has a shore-line of 
almost sixteen hundred miles, much of which is tide 
land ; and on these tide lands grain yields the fabulous 
amount of over a hundred bushels to the acre. Eastern 
Washington, also, which differs so widely in soil and 
climate from the western half of the State, has been 
found excellently adapted for grain and fruit raising, 
with the help of irrigation, preparations for the use of 
which are now being made on a vast scale. All these 
products will of course seek a market via the Puget 
Sound cities. 

I saw Tacoma in 1887, and again in 1889 and 1890, 
and the growth of the city in this short time was such 
that in both cases I hardly recognized the place. It 
seemed as if some fairy had visited the town and 
changed every black stump into a four-story brick build- 
ing by touching it with her wand. The cause of this 
sudden "spurt " was the completion of the Cascade Divis- 
ion of the Northern Pacific Railroad, and the Stampede 
Tunnel, which opened up the vast coal-fields along this 
road, and made the Pacific Coast cities independent of 
Pennsylvania coal. The export of coal to California 
ports is already second in importance to Tacoma's lum- 
ber trade, and the business is as yet in its infancy. 
Bituminous or soft coal is at present chiefly mined, but 
it is said that "near the foot of Mt. Tacoma is the 
best anthracite mine in the world, the product running 
ninety-eight per cent of fixed carbon," the smallest vein 



222 THE AMEKICAN MEDITERRAITEAN. 

being four feet through. " This will be opened up very 
shortly, as soon as a railway can be built thi-ough to tap 
it." Such a railway would also prove a great boon to 
tourists. The words just quoted are from the Orego- 
nian, which by the way is still read by almost as many 
Washingtonians as Oregonians, — a reminiscence of the 
time when Portland was the metropolis of both the 
States which formed old Oregon. 

As this chapter is intended to be devoted to the scenic 
rather than the commercial aspects of Puget Sound, I 
cannot give any more space to the latter. It is worthy 
of note that the Tacomans, however enthusiastic they 
may be in regard to their business prospects, never fail 
to appreciate also the aesthetic and climatic advantages 
of their location. Excessive summer heat is as unknown 
as excessive winter cold, the thermometer having been 
known to keep within the limits of 30° and 90° for six 
successive years ; and though it rains a good deal in win- 
ter, the rain is not depressing through a sultiy atmos- 
pheric condition. As for the site of Tacoma, it has the 
double advantage of being not only picturesque in itself, 
as seen from the bay, but of affording at the same time 
a superb bay and mountain view from the residences. 
The city is built on sloping ground and terraces rising 
one behind the other ; and as in San Francisco, the busi- 
ness streets are on level ground, and the residence 
streets run up hill ; but we read that " the engineer 
declared when he entered upon his work that the streets 
should have such easy grades that a horse with buggy 
and driver might go from one point to another in a 
lively trot, and he carried his point." The greater part 
of the city ha%dng been at first in the hands of the 
Northern Pacific Railroad, the directors were able to lay 



THE AlVIERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 223 

out the town on principles of good taste, which was done 
by putting the matter in the hands of an expert land- 
scape gardener. The streets in consequence are all from 
eighty to one hundred feet wide, and nearly seventeen 
hundred acres of land have been put aside for parks. 
The future hundreds of thousands of Tacoma will ever 
be grateful for these sanitary and far-seeing provisions. 
For, however salubrious the climate may be, a large city 
always needs breathing-spaces and wide streets. Until 
recently Tacoma was behind Seattle in the matter of 
street-car facilities, but within a year cable cars have 
been built, and almost twenty miles of electric street 
railroads, which have solved the problem of going up 
hill at a grade of fourteen feet to one hundred, and 
enable the merchants, in rainy weather, to reach their 
elevated residences in comfort. Concerning these resi- 
dences I may add that almost all of them command a 
superb view of that compound octopus-like arm of the 
Pacific known as Puget Sound, and of the incomparable 
Mt. Tacoma. 

To get a perfect impression of Mt. Tacoma, however, 
we must board the steamer going either to Olympia 
or to Seattle and Victoria. Both these trips will be 
taken by every tourist who is wise. In certain hazy 
conditions of the atmosphere Mt. Tacoma, as viewed 
from the bay, presents a most unique and mysterious 
appearance. The haze completely conceals the broad 
base and the wooded part of the mountain, leaving only 
the vast cone in sight, like a floating island of snow on 
an illimitable ocean of mist. As the steamer leaves 
the harbor for Olympia, we have this mountain on one 
side, and on the other side rows of fine villas on the crest 
of the steep hill-side, with their feet, as it were, dangling 



224 THE AINIERICAN MEDITERIIANEAN. 

over the precipice, and looking as if the slightest earth- 
quake shock would make them tumble into the harbor. 
But there are no earthquakes in Washington and Ore- 
gon, though their volcanoes are not quite cold yet; 
nor are there any other violent disturbances, such as 
cyclones and tornadoes. Hence the waters of Puget 
Sound are always safe and usually unruffled, so that 
sea-sickness need not be dreaded. That part of the 
Sound which lies between Tacoma and Olympia is not 
so straight and wide as the stretch between Tacoma 
and Seattle, but winds about like a river and embraces 
between its curves many large and small islands, bays, 
promontories, and inlets where rivers and creeks add 
their sweet water to the briny substance of the Sound. 
The comparison to an octopus, which I ventured to use 
a moment ago, bold and fantastic as it may seem, de- 
scribes the shape of this southwestern part of the Sound 
remarkably well, as it here sends out its feelers in every 
direction, one of them almost reaching an arm of Hood's 
Canal. What a paradise for yachting and picnic parties 
this Sound will be when Tacoma and Seattle have 
reached the size of San Francisco, and when Washington 
will hold two or three million inhabitants — which it 
can without the least crowding, or settling on poor 
lands ! 

In some places, where earthslides have occurred, the 
banks of the Sound are steep and palisade-like, but 
usually the forest trees come right up to the edge of 
the water. In this part of the Sound the scenery pre- 
serves its primeval aspect, human habitation being rare; 
but occasionally an Indian hut may be seen, with a 
family group consisting of a " warrior " taking his ease 
on his back, while his wife chops the wood wherewith to 



THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 225 

cook his dinner, and his mother mends his clothes. 
These dusky squaws have secured the right of doing 
masculine work which so many of their white sisters are 
now clamoring for ; and they have husbands, too, which 
the latter usually have not : and yet they are not happy. 

Only one town of any significance — Steilacoom — 
is seen on this route. Not far from it is one of the 
most beautiful scenic points on the Sound — a place 
where it widens out amid the islands in such a way that 
it seems the meeting-place of five large rivers, re- 
sembling a central square in a city into which as many 
streets lead. A few hours more, and we come to the 
capital of the State. Like the capital of Oregon, 
Olympia has not kept pace in growth with spme other 
cities in the State, its population being about the same 
as that of Salem — five or six thousand ; and if it is 
ever to become a commercial centre, it will have to rely 
on railways rather than on navigation, because its har- 
bor is too much affected by the tide. The mile-long 
pier which stands on the sand in low tide has been the 
subject of many cruel jokes in rival towns. But 
Olympia is considered a quiet and pleasant place to 
reside in ; and while Tacoma arrogates the title of " City 
of Destiny," and Seattle that of " Queen City of the 
Sound," Olympia likes to be called the " City of 
Homes." The houses are surrounded by gardens in 
which flowers bloom every month in the year and roses 
run riot, and from elevated points near by the scenic 
outlook embraces half-a-dozen snow-peaks, including 
those of the Olympic range. 

It is on the route from Tacoma to Seattle and Vic- 
toria, however, that the Olympic range shows to best 
advantage. The Sound here is, as I have said, less 



226 THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 

winding and less puzzling to all but the pilot, but there 
are the same endless changes and suprises in the watery 
vista. At one place the channel is no wider than a 
river, so that one can count the pebbles on the shore ; 
at another it widens out into a spacious lake dotted with 
islands ; and in the ujDper part it expands so much that 
land for awhile is out of sight altogether, and we seem 
to be on tlie ocean. Here the water is not littered with 
the debris of saw-mills, as in many places below, but 
seals may still be encountered basking on logs in the 
sunshine. It must be admitted that the immediate bank- 
scenery of Puget Sound nowhere equals in grandeur 
and interest that of the Middle Columbia River; but 
the background of snow-mountains is even grander : the 
scenic frame is here more interesting than the picture 
itself. Tacoma, St. Helens, and Adams are to be seen, 
and just as we enter the bay of Seattle we catch our first 
glimpse of Mt. Baker, — another one of the North Pa- 
cific extinct volcanic snow-cones, eleven thousand feet 
in height. From the hill above Seattle a much more 
complete view of this peak, which stands like a sentinel 
just this side of the British boundary, is afforded; and 
here, too, the Olympic range shows to best advantage. 

Unlike the other mountains of the Pacific Northwest, 
the dozen or more peaks which make up the Olympic 
range are not isolated volcanic cones, but form a range 
of jagged peaks connected below. They are covered 
with snow the greater part of the year, and rise in the 
two highest peaks, Mts. Olympus and Constance, to a 
height of 8150 and 7770 feet respectively. It is an odd 
fact that until a few months ago the region enclosed 
by this range, though appearing within stone's-throw 
of Seattle's thirty thousand inhabitants, was almost as 



THE AMERICAN MEDITEEEANEAN. 227 

unknown as parts of Africa before Stanley. A few 
trappers and prospectors for minerals had made spas- 
modic efforts to cross the mountain barriers, and hence 
arose rumors of the existence in this wilderness of 
Indians who had never seen a white man, of beautiful 
lakes full of fish, fine valleys suited for grazing and 
agriculture, gold, silver, iron, and lead ores, and bears 
and elks enough to make this a sportsman's paradise. 
But nothing definite was known until last June, when 
two parties that had gone out in the autumn returned 
in a deplorable condition, and reported on the correct- 
ness of the rumors. One of these parties consisted of 
Ex-Lieutenant-Governor Gilman of Minnesota and his 
son, and the other was sent out .by the Seattle Press. 
Thus a new and valuable territory has been added to 
the new State. 

In writing about Puget Sound it is difficult to get the 
mind away from the mountains, but I will only add that 
as the steamer enters Elliott Bay we get a most pictur- 
esque view of Seattle, framed in by Mt. Baker on the 
left, and Mt. Tacoma (here always called Mt. Rainier, 
of course) on the right ; and that the view of the latter 
peak is quite as fine as at Tacoma. Like Tacoma, 
Seattle is built on the side of a hill sloping down to the 
water, and the harbor is excellent, affording room for 
several miles of wharfage. The business streets are 
again (as in almost all cities of the Pacific Coast) the 
only ones on level ground, while the residence streets 
run at right angles to them up hill. In one respect 
Seattle is perhaps the most modern of all American 
cities, as there is not a single horse-car line in the town, 
their place being taken by cable and electric lines, which 
do the work much better, quicker, and without cruelty 



228 THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 

to aiiimals, of which all horse-car companies are inev- 
itably guilty. 

The first time I saw Seattle was a few weeks after the 
great fire in 1889 which consumed the entire business 
section of the city, with the wharves, and entailed a loss 
of eight to ten millions on its twenty thousand inhab- 
itants. It was a most curious sight, — a city of tents 
built on the charred ruins of the former cit}^ on the site 
of which it had literally grown up in a day, like a bed 
of mushrooms. Hotels consisted of large tents with 
the office in front, cots behind, and the kitchen and 
dining-room in other tents. Druggists, barbers, dry- 
goods dealers, grocers, etc., all had their business in 
tents ; and as a sufficient number of these could not be 
obtained immediately, one could see here and there a 
"happy family," consisting, say, of a jeweller, milliner, 
and real-estate dealer, all in one tent. But the oddest 
sight I came across was a large tent filled with 
miscellaneous goods, displayed on improvised benches, 
and outside the tent was this notice in large letters : 
"Positively No Goods at Retail." 

It is possible that the reporters overdrew matters some- 
what (contrary to their natural propensity) when they 
wrote of a theatrical manager who, when he saw his 
building on fire, forthwith rushed to an arcliitect for 
plans for a new one ; of a merchant who telegraphed 
for iron for a new store wlien he saw the fiames had 
taken hold of his old one ; and of wagons unloading 
stone for the foundations of a new building while the 
hose was still playing on the debris of the old one : but 
like an exaggerated perspective in a picture, such sto- 
ries, after all, only show the situation in a true light, since 
the energy, pluck, and hopefulness shown by the Seattle- 



THE AMERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 229 

ites oil this occasion have never been paralleled. When 
the anniversary of the fire was celebrated, on June 6, 
1890, it was stated that during the year two hundi'ed 
and sixty-five new buildings had been put up, together 
with sixty new wharves, with a frontage of over two 
miles — all of which, with other improvements, involved 
the expenditure of almost twelve million dollars. Sixty 
blocks, or one hundred and twenty acres, had been con- 
sumed, and in rebuilding this portion the streets have 
been made wider and straighter, and the buildings are 
of much better material and higher than formerly. The 
old ones would have been torn down anyway in a few 
years, so that, after all, the fire proved a blessing in 
disguise to the community as a whole. On re-visiting 
Seattle in June, I found that the new buildings were not 
in such an advanced stage as the newspaper accounts 
had led one to fancy ; but there was no mistake about 
their being there, and their metropolitan dimensions, 
and their stone and iron constitution. The air was 
hideous with the noise of stone-cutters and carpenters, 
and the sidewalks were impassable for the piles of 
bricks and lumber. There were also a few direct traces 
of the fire in piles of charred timber, and in a few 
scattered tents where groceries, clothing, etc., were still 
being sold, the owners having probably lost too much 
to be able to rebuild at once. 

Seattle enjoys almost exactly the same advantages as 
Tacoma regarding scenery, climate, shipping, coal, and 
lumber, and further details can therefore be dispensed 
with. Both these cities doubtless have a great future be- 
fore them, and there is no ground for the fierce jealousy 
between them. But if the Seattleites do not wish to 
alienate the sympathies of tourists, they should cease 



230 THE AlVIERICAN MEDITERRANEAN. 

naming the glorious Mt. Tacoma after an obscure Eng- 
lish lord when we have such a beautiful American name 
for it. 

Beyond Seattle the Sound widens out, and forty-seven 
miles to the north we come to the last of our cities tliis 
side of Alaska, — Port Townsend, the United States 
customs stations, at which all vessels that enter or 
leave the Sound have to report. It has most of the 
advantages of other Sound cities, and a population at 
present of five thousand. In the number of customs 
entries. Port Townsend claims to be next to New York. 
The climatic vagaries produced on the Pacific Coast by the 
" Chinook " wind, which comes from the Japan Current, 
are curiously illustrated by the rainfall at tliis city. As 
a general thing, the rainfall on the Pacific Coast may be 
said to increase steadily from San Diego's ten inches to 
Sitka's one hundred and eight. But, oddly enough, there 
is less rain in the Puget Sound region than in Oregon, 
the " web-foot " State. Tacoma has forty inches, and Port 
Townsend only sixteen. Similarly, it is observed that 
less rain falls in Vancouver's Island than in British 
Columbia in general. But when he gets into Alaska, 
the tourist is fortunate if he comes upon a rainless week 
even in summer ; and in rainy weather its scenic won- 
ders can only be half appreciated. It seems, therefore, 
as if Puget Sound had been placed where it is as a sam- 
ple of Alaskan scenery and inland coast navigation ; 
and a most excellent sample it is, for it is only when 
we get up as far as Sitka that the Alaskan salt-water 
river boasts of snow-peaks comparable to Mts. Tacoma 
Adams, Baker, St. Helens, and Hood, wliich adorn 
Puget Sound. 



XV. 

A WEEK IN ALASKA. 

A GREAT SALT-WATER RIVER THE GENUINE AMERICAN 

SWITZERLAND HIGHEST SNOW-MOUNTAIN IN THE WORLD 

THE EXCURSION SEASON ISLANDS AND FORESTS 

INDIAN TRAITS ALASKAN VILLAGES GLACIER BAY 

AN ICEBERG FACTORY. 

If Long Island Sound could be continued for about 
a thousand miles, past the coasts of Maine, Newfound- 
land, and Labrador, as far as the entrance to Hud- 
son's Bay, SO that tourists might go all the way on fast 
river-steamers, with state-rooms on the main deck, and 
without the slightest risk of sea-sickness ; and if this 
hypothetic " Long Island " could be broken up into sev- 
eral thousand, which, instead of being flat and sandy, 
were covered with forests of almost tropical luxuriance 
and with mountains of an infinite variety of shape, con- 
tinually increasing in altitude until they culminated 
in two snow-peaks higher than Mt. Blanc, outrunners 
of the third highest mountain range in the world, and 
sending clear down and into the salt water numerous 
glaciers, compared with which those in Switzerland are 
mere pigmies, — if, in other words, the strip of coast 
which extends from Tacoma, Washington, to Glacier 
Bay in Alaska could be transferred to the Atlantic side, 

231 



232 A WEEK IN ALASKA. 

it is safe to say that at least a score of large steamers, 
crowded with passengers, would be going up and down 
this salt-water river all summer long. The Atlantic 
Coast people, however, even if they possessed this 
scenic bonanza, would hardly be able to enjoy it com- 
fortably, on account of the icy ocean current which 
sweeps down Davis Strait and chills and befogs Labra- 
dor and Newfoundland even in summer. Most persons 
in the East seem to imagine that Alaska must be in a 
similar, if not a worse, predicament; but they reckon 
without the warm Japan Current which does for South- 
ern Alaska what the Gulf Stream does for the British 
Islands. Northwestern Alaska, indeed, shares with 
Northern Siberia the honor of having the coldest climate 
in the world ; but the southeastern portion of the coast, 
as far north as Sitka, has a climate much warmer than 
that of Maine, though Sitka is some fifteen degrees of 
latitude north of Portland, Maine. It must be borne in 
mind how vast a country Alaska is, — as large, one writer 
has calculated, as the original thirteen States. A still 
more graphic way of realizing its extent is by noting 
that from California it is as far to the western extremity 
of Alaska as it is to New York ; so that the central city 
of the United States is not Omaha or St. Paul, but San 
Francisco ! 

Fifty years hence, in my humble opinion, San Fran- 
cisco, or the then metropolis of the Pacific Coast, will 
be not only geographically but in many other ways 
the centre of American life. The agricultural, scenic, 
climatic, and hygienic superiority of the Western to 
the Eastern Coast is too great not to affect the question 
of population and civilization. But long before that 
era Alaska will have universally established its claim 



A WEEK IN ALASKA. 233 

to that much abused-plirase " the American Switzer- 
land," — unless, indeed, the terms should be con- 
verted, and Switzerland come to be complimented as 
" the European Alaska." Yearly the number increases 
of those who ask themselves whether, instead of gfoing- 
to Europe every summer, it would not be worth while 
to try a Western trip. Before the Yellowstone Park 
and Alaska were made conveniently accessible, this 
Western trip could hardly have been recommended as 
an equivalent for Europe ; but now the scales are pretty 
evenly balanced, and as soon as the St. Elias range shall 
have been included in the regular round trip, and pro- 
vided with guides, roads, and hotels, Switzerland will 
have to "take a back seat"; for St. Elias rises twenty 
thousand feet into the air, and can be seen from base to 
top, with a snow-and-ice mantle reaching down to the 
very level of the ocean, while the highest mountain in 
Switzerland is only 15,784 feet high (to the spectator 
only about twelve thousand, as he is already several 
thousand feet high when he sees it), and has a snow- 
mantle of only about seven thousand feet. Indeed, 
considering that in the Himalayas and the Andes, the 
only two ranges that tower above the St. Elias, the 
snow-line is as high as fifteen thousand to twenty 
thousand feet, it is clear that St. Elias must be the 
highest snoiv mountain in the world. 

Unfortunately, the present Alaskan round trip does 
not include St. Elias, although the majority of the tour- 
ists would gladly risk the chances of sea-sickness by 
making the additional two hundred miles from Sitka in 
the open sea. Two mountains of the St. Elias range, 
with their stupendous glaciers, — Fairweather and Cril- 
lon, both Irigher than Mt. Blanc, — are, however, vis- 



234 A WEEK IN ALASKA. 

ible to those who make the present tour; and al- 
though, like St. Elias, they are lamentably apt to hide 
themselves beneath and above clouds, even those who 
miss this wonderful sight find so much that is unique 
in the other attractions, that no one has ever been 
known to feel the slightest desire to " get his money 
back." Were the scenery much less inspiring than it 
is, yet would the trip be worth making for its hygienic 
value. Here, for two or three weeks, one can breathe a 
delicious mixture of ocean and mountain air, the latter 
just sufficiently impregnated with the fragrance of pine 
forests to prevent that enervating languor which an 
exclusive lung diet of ocean air is apt to breed. As re- 
gards the appetite for solid food, its average size may be 
inferred from Captain Carroll's favorite joke, — that, as 
the provisions are running short, he shall l)e compelled to 
take the turbulent outside passage back in order to curb 
the gastronomic propensities of the passengers. 

The fare provided on these steamers is about as good 
as that on the average Atlantic steamers, but the daily 
salmon and a few other dishes become monotonous, and 
the passengers look in vain for " local color " in the bill 
of fare ; i.e. for venison and bear steak, wild ducks and 
geese, salmon-berries, and some of the usual kinds of 
fish that haunt these waters. The fault for this omis- 
sion is laid on the shoulders of the Indians, who are said 
to be too lazy to hunt and fish for more than they need 
for themselves daily. But as they willingly M'ork in the 
mines for two dollars a day, it is j^robable they would 
gladly hunt and fish for the steamer stewards if enough 
were offered them. Yet, as just intimated, one needs no 
such special stimulants for the appetite, and one thing is 
certain, that the large number of invalids who cross the 



A WEEK IN ALASKA. 235 

Atlantic yearly, chiefly to get the benefits of a sea-voy- 
age, would do much better to go to Alaska, for there 
they would be sure of gaining in weight daily, owing to 
the absence of sea-sickness. And another thing in favor 
of the Alaskan tour is, that one is certain to find pleas- 
ant companionship on the steamers. The passengers on 
Atlantic steamers represent all classes of society, and 
even of the tourists not all are pleasure-seekers in an 
aesthetic sense ; but of the Alaskan passengers the ma- 
jority are apt to be persons of refinement and taste, since 
the only magnet that can draw them there is the hope 
of enjoying fine scenery. 

]\Iost of the tourists, not feeling quite certain whether 
Alaska will come up to their expectations, go on the 
elegant new steamer which is provided with all mod- 
ern comforts and makes the round trip in twelve days ; 
but not a few regret afterwards that they did not take 
one of the old freight steamers, Idaho or A7icon, which 
require about a week more for the trip, and, as they 
repeatedly stop a whole day at interesting places, allow 
the passengers more time to explore the neighborhood, 
and go fishing, observe the natives, hunt for curios, etc. 
The fast steamer makes only six or seven stops in 
twelve days, remaining from two to six hours at each 
place ; and for almost three days after leaving Victoria 
she makes no stop at all, thus resembling an ocean 
steamer, — a resemblance made the more suggestive by 
a series of rocky islands near Victoria that look very 
much like the coast of Ireland when first approached on 
the voyage to Liverpool. 

The regular tourist season extends from the middle 
of April to the middle of October. Early in the year 
passengers will see more of the " midnight sun," but in 



236 A WEEK IN ALASKA. 

July and August fogs and rain are less common, although 
even during those months the warm winds blowing in- 
land from the Japanese Current are very apt to con- 
dense into clouds and rain, — a wise arrangement which 
prevents the scenery from becoming monotonous to the 
tourists ; and if any interesting point is thereby missed, 
there is always a chance of seeing it on the return trip, 
— unless, indeed, the captain should choose a different 
channel. There is an endless variety to select from, and 
the marvel is that any captain or pilot should ever be 
able to find his wa^^ through this labyrinth. For what 
the Milky Way is among stars, this island-studded archi- 
pelago is among terrestrial water-ways. Captain Car- 
roll, however, finds his way as unerringly as the salmon 
which at some seasons splash about the ship, bound for 
the rivers of the interior. There is not a single light- 
house — only here and there a rude post. Fortunately the 
nights never become entirely dark, and even a dense fog 
does not arrest the steamer's progress ; for the pilots have 
learned, by blowing the steam-whistle, to judge by the 
echo the distance from either shore ; and the water is 
almost invariably so deep that danger is reduced to a 
minimum. 

During our trip, which commenced on August 22, the 
fog was never dense enough to call for the steam-whis- 
tle ; but the dense smoke, the result of forest fii'es and 
" clearings," which had prevented us from enjoying the 
Columbia River scenery and Mts. Hood and Tacoma, 
also hid from us the charms of the far-famed Puget 
Sound region with its background of Olympian and 
other snow-mountains. Gradually, however, as we 
passed along British Columbia towards Alaska, the 
smoke grew less dense and finally disappeared entirely. 



A WEEK IN ALASICA. 237 

Isolated columns of smoke were still to be seen fre- 
quently in the midst of the primitive forests, indicating 
Indian camps ; but in Alaska, thanks to the frequent 
rains, forest fires cannot occur — a fact which will con- 
sole the economically minded for the enormous wastes 
of timber in Washington Territory and Oregon. The 
visible wealth of Alaska, as jNIr. Hallock remarks, lies in 
these forests : " There is a supply here of 5,700,000,000 
feet at a low estimate, a very large part of which is at 
once accessible for shipment, as saw-mills and vessels 
can lie right alongside the timber at tide water all the 
way up the coast as far as it extends " ; and Alaska with 
its islands is said to have a coast-line of twenty-five 
thousand miles, equal to the circumference of the globe. 

Not only has Alaska the third highest mountain 
range in the world, but if the greatest landscape artist 
had been consulted, its members could not have been 
arranged in a manner more continuously impressive to 
the tourist. Beginning near Victoria with a moderate 
altitude and mere patches of snow on the sides, they 
daily grow higher and whiter until the climax is reached 
in the St. Elias group. When we were northward 
bound, the smoky atmosphere hid the distant peaks and 
left the impression that snow was rather scarce for the 
first three days ; but on the return trip a shower had 
preceded us, clearing away this smoke, revealing snow 
in abundance, including, about thirty-six hours from 
Victoria, an undulating range with immense snow-fields 
that would not be without honor even in Switzerland ; 
and this was before Alaska proper had been reached. 

The whole of the second and third days tlie passen- 
gers could imagine themselves sailing along the Hudson 
River Highlands or Loreley Rock on the Rhine ; but after 



238 A WEEK IN ALASKA. 

that all comparison with Eastern rivers ceased, and the 
Columbia alone, with its background of snow-moun- 
tains, afforded approximate terms of comparison. The 
hour for sleep was postponed as long as possible, from 
fear of losing some of the grand sights. As one of the 
passengers remarked, it would be possible to make hun- 
dreds of Lake Georges out of this Alaskan salt-water 
river. The word " lake " is very appropriate, as the chan- 
nel widens and apparently comes to an end, as in a few 
places on the Hudson, so that tourists frequently amuse 
themselves by guessing which way the pilot is going to 
turn next. In some places the channel is so wide that 
land disappears on one side ; at other times so narrow 
that a woman could throw a stone on either shore. 

Of the abundance and variety of islands which adorn 
this water-way, only those can form a remote conception 
who have seen the Thousand Islands of the St. Law- 
rence. But in Alaska, as one writer has remarked, we 
see not a thousand islands only, but " a thousand miles 
of islands," some as large as a State or a European king- 
dom, others just large enough for a house and garden ; 
while many look as if future generations would inevi- 
tably call them " Picnic Islands," so cosey and inviting 
are they. Like the mountains that line the shores, all 
these islands are densely wooded and very few of them 
are flat. Indeed, a strip of flat land in this part of 
Alaska is such a curiosity that the tourist's attention is 
unconsciously attracted by it — reminding one of the 
young Tyrolean girl's exclamation on entering for the 
first time the monotonous plain between Munich and 
Stuttgart: "Oh, mamma, look out of the window. How 
beautiful ! there is not a mountain in sight ! " 

Bare hill-sides are almost equally rare in Alaska, till 



A WEEK IN ALASKA. 239 

one reaches the glacier regions. Everywhere the forests 
extend down to the very edge of the water, and during 
high tide they actually seem to overlap or grow out of 
the water. Consequently there is no beach, its place 
being taken at low tide by ten feet or more of rocky 
wall adorned with mosses and other vegetable and 
animal growths, and sometimes almost as brilliantly 
colored as the walls of the Yellowstone Canon. The 
forests above add to this an endless variety of green tints, 
indicating the different kinds of wood, the age of the 
trees ; or, perchance, an isolated streak of fresher color 
betrays the path of an avalanche which carried away 
the old trees and made room for a new growth. 

Some of the mountains are so rocky that they afford 
insufficient nourishment to the trees, which consequently 
die after a certain age, their gray, leafless skeletons 
suggesting the thought that after all forest fires have 
their use as a sort of scavengers. Still, these gray and 
green forests are less uninviting than those black and 
green charnel forests in which the fires have done their 
work incompletely ; and they are the exception, not the 
rule, in Alaska. 

For the first three days, as already intimated, these 
aspects of nature were the only new experiences and 
sights offered to the Olympian' s passengers, no stops 
being made after Fort Townsend and Victoria till we 
reached Juneau (the largest town in Alaska), omitting 
Nanaimo, Tongas, and Wrangel. It is customary to 
stojD at each place of any importance, either in going up 
or returning, the captain being guided in his decision 
chiefly by the necessity of j^^ssing certain dangerous 
places when the tide is favorable. 

The most perilous of these places is Seymour Rapids, 



240 A WEEK IlSr ALASKA. 

some hours north of Nanaimo. As we approached these 
narrows, the water presented a most turbiilently fasci- 
nating appearance, twirling around furiously in hun- 
dreds of little whirlpools, while large portions of the 
surface appeared to be several feet higher than the 
adjoining parts, as if a submarine earthquake had raised 
some places and thus made the water run down hill. 
The spectacle was as exciting as the Niagara rapids, 
and more sublime, because the fact of being on the 
water, and the knowledge that there were hidden rocks 
all about, added just that slight suspicion of danger 
which stimulates the feeling of sublimity. 

In the narrowest part of the channel a regular water- 
fall was produced by the headlong plunge of the tide 
waters down some I'ocks near the eastern shore, while 
the other side was rendered equally dangerous l)y num- 
erous rocks, thus leaving only a very narrow channel in 
the middle for the steamer to pass through. The Idaho 
and Anco7i never attempt this passage while the tide 
rushes through it like a mountain torrent, but the 
Olympian plunged in boldly. In vain, however, did the 
engineer strain every muscle of his machinery ; for 
more than an hour the noble steamer, though paddling 
away at a rate of almost twenty miles an hour, did not 
move a yard. Here was a lovely situation for timid 
souls, with 2)lenty of time to speculate on the possibility 
of the shaft or rudder breaking, and to recall the fact 
that in this very place two vessels have already come to 
grief, one at a sacrifice of seventy Chinese lives ! 
But the Olympian suddenly made a spurt, and the salt 
water-fall and the maelstroms were left behind. 

On the fourth day we met the Pinta in a shallow, 
quiet bay, and exchanged greetings, mails, and provis- 



A WEEK IN ALASKA. 241 

ions. The Pinta is the diminutive man-of-war which 
cruises these waters and keeps the Indians in sub- 
jection through the fear of having their villages 
bombarded. While the brass buttons of the officers 
exerted their usual magnetic power over the eyes of the 
young ladies, the other passengers were less roman- 
tically employed in watching the jelly-fish which 
crowded about the steamers, literally by the million. 

The next incident of importance was our stop at 
the gold mines opposite Juneau, and subsequently at 
Juneau itself. Everybody went ashore to see the 
mines and the quartz mills, where a hundred or more 
machines reduce the ore to sand with a most terrific 
noise. The mine was said to be worth twice the price 
paid for Alaska, and it was evidently prospering, to 
judge by the additional buildings in course of erection. 

At Juneau, which is a larger place than Sitka, the 
first thing that strikes the eye is the large number of 
" drug stores," almost every other building being labelled 
as such. Can it be that the Indian habit of leaving the 
heads and tails of salmon to decay in the street, in their 
part of the village, has such an injurious effect on the 
health of the Juneauites? or has the fact that the sale 
of whiskey is forbidden in Alaska a remote bearing on 
the subject ? Certainly neither the whites nor the 
Indians look unhealthy. 

Most of the Indian men were at work in the mines, 
but the squaws sat in rows on the pier or in front of 
their houses, offering for sale grass baskets, furs, blankets, 
small canoes and paddles, totem-poles, wooden spoons, 
masks, bracelets made of silver dollars, berries, etc. 
Each squaw seems to have the shrewdness and business 
instincts of a Jew and a Yankee rolled into one. In 



242 A WEEK IN ALASKA. 

their own language they comment freely on the tourists, 
— tit for tat, — and appear to find their doings rather 
ludicrous, Avhich, no doubt, they sometimes are. These 
squaws have obviously given their husbands elementary 
lessons in "woman's rights " ; for the latter never dare to 
sell anything for a lower price than fii^st asked, and if the 
wife says No, the bargain comes to naught. The squaws 
are also allowed to share the labor of the men on the 
water, and they are experts in paddling their own canoes. 
Their domestic accomplishments are less admirable. 
The interior of the house is as uncleanly as the blankets 
they wear, and it would not be pleasant to think of 
entering their huts were it not for the disinfecting smoke 
which pervades them. With a few exceptions, they 
have no stoves, the food being cooked over an open fire 
in the centre of the floor. The smoke seeks to escape 
through a hole in the roof, but, before escaping, it is 
utilized for curing strips of salmon that are hung on 
strings below the hole. In front of the houses other 
rows of salmon are suspended on sticks to dry in the 
sun ; and before each hut lies a canoe carefully covered 
with mats, to protect it against the sun. 

At Sitka we had an opportunity to see the Indians as 
influenced by missionary efforts. The Mission School 
contains over a hundred boys and girls. The girls do 
the cooking, and the boys are experts in carpentry. 
Their chairs and bedsteads are very neatly made, and 
are to be seen in most of the Indian huts. The boys 
wear a blue uniform, to give them a sort of esprit de 
corps ; and the girls appear to give considerable atten- 
tion to their appearance, especially in the arrangement 
of the hair. Their gait is very ungraceful, owing, as 
some say, to the fact that their ancestors spent so much 



A WEEK IN ALASKA. 243 

of their time in canoes. Among the half-breeds, and the 
Indians too, some have considerable beauty of figure 
and face ; and were it not for the large mouth, many- 
more would be pretty. 

It is impossible to look at these Indians and not come 
to the conclusion that they are descended from the 
Japanese. The whole cast of the face is Japanese : 
the cheeks, the small, sparkling black eyes, with their 
scant lashes and brows, and the complexion, are unmis- 
takably so ; and the fact that, not so many years ago, 
some Japanese mariners were shipwrecked on the Alas- 
kan coast, makes the Japanese origin of the American 
Inchan all the more probable. Another Japanese trait 
of these Indians is their bright intelligence and their 
eagerness to adopt the customs of the Avhite man. They 
learn very readily, and some of the pupils recited and 
prayed in English, while several squaws and Indian men 
prayed in their own guttural language. The singing 
of these children did not differ much in quality of tone 
or intonation from that in our primary schools. 

Besides these Indians, there is little of interest in 
Sitka itself besides the old Russian castle and the Greek 
church, in which it is odd to see pictures of saints in 
these out-of-the-way regions. The church itself does not 
deserve the amount of attention it has received, except 
from an antiquarian point of view; but the charms of 
Sitka harbor have hardly been exaggerated even by 
those who compare it to the Gulf of Naples. The arri- 
val of a steamer is always a great event for the Sit- 
kans, natives and whites, who assemble on the wharf to 
greet her arrival and cheer her departure ; and the local 
weekly paper, the Alaskan^ was enterprising enough to 
get out an extra in a couple of hours, with the passen- 



244 A WEEK IN ALASKA. 

ger list ; and tliis edition the young ladies bought by the 
dozen and mailed to their friends as conclusive evidence 
that they had been so near the north pole. 

In speaking of Sitka before Glacier Bay I have fol- 
lowed the map rather than the steamer's course ; for 
Sitka is already some distance on the home stretch, and 
before arriving there the steamers visit Lynn Canal, 
which leads up to the Chilcat country, famous for its 
furs, blankets, salmon-canneries, and glaciers ; and then 
Glacier Bay, which runs almost parallel to Lynn Canal, 
and, with the Muir Glacier, represents the climax of the 
present Alaskan tour. Lynn Canal contains a large 
number of glaciers, each of which w^ould make the for- 
tune of a villao^e and a dozen hotels in Switzerland, and 
consj)icuous among them are the magnificent Eagle and 
Davidson Glaciers, which would be the " lions " of 
Southern Alaska were they not slightly surpassed in 
grandeur by the Muir Glacier, which, Jumbo-like, there- 
fore gets all the attention of the visitors. 

As the steamer enters Lynn and Glacier bays, the 
scenery becomes truly Arctic, as well as the climate, and 
overcoats are in demand. Vast snow-fields are visible 
in every direction, and the frozen rivers or glaciers which 
represent their drainage all creep down to the Avater's 
edge, in some cases presenting a front of several miles. 
As the steamer moves on, the panorama constantly 
changes, showing the mountains and glaciers from every 
point of view without involving the slightest fatigue on 
the part of the tourists ; and as soon as one ice-river is 
out of sight, another shows its edge, and gradually stands 
revealed in all its grandeur. One never gets over the 
surprise that the snow-line should be so low — that 
the snow in the crater-like dug-outs on the mountain 



A WEEK IN ALASKA. 245 

sides should be so near the level of the ocean in mid- 
summer. 

On entering Glacier Bay, another Arctic surprise 
awaits the tourist. Icebergs of all shapes and sizes begin 
to float about the steamer, some just large enough to fill 
the steward's depleted ice-box, others, the size of a 
steamer, compelling the Ol//mpian to moderate her speed. 
As the great glacier is in sight two hours before the 
steamer reaches it, though headed directly for it, the 
passengers have ample time to admire the exquisite blue 
and white tints of these icebergs, and note their odd 
forms and resemblances to the hull of a steamer, various 
geometrical figures, a bundle of logs, a fairy grotto, or a 
sjihinx, etc. Some of them are entirely covered with 
scores of gulls, which fly away with harsh cries as the 
steamer approaches. 

It appears incredible that the surface of the glacier 
which lies a few miles ahead should be more than two 
hundred feet above the water ; it seems no more than 
twenty ; but the apparent height constantly increases 
until the steamer brings up suddenly within a few hun- 
dred feet of the icy wall. Then there is a chorus of ohs 
and alls, and the Bishop of Rochester (England), who 
is one of the passengers, dogmatically pronounces it the 
grandest sight in the world. 

Imagine a wall of solid ice, tAvo hundred and twenty- 
five feet high, extending for about a mile to right and 
left, the upper portions white and broken up into the 
most fantastic crags and pinnacles, like the rocks of the 
Yellowstone Caiion ; the lower portions of a deeper and 
deeper blue, according as the increased pressure from 
above and from the sides has squeezed out the air and 
changed the solid snow into pure ice, producing near 



246 A "WEEK IN ALASKA. 

the centre a grotto of more than celestial blue. Imagine, 
furthermore, tliat there are eight hundred feet more of 
this wall under the water, that even if it is true that the 
Muir Glacier moves thirty or forty feet a day, instead 
of oiil}^ two or three, like those of Switzerland, the por- 
tion of ice now visible to the eye represents snow that 
fell perhaps hundreds of years ago, and has been slowly 
creeping down with the ice-river ever since — and the 
meaning of the word " sublime " will perhaps become 
clearer than any metaphysical definition could make it. 

Every ten or fifteen minutes the spectator is startled 
from his n^veries l)y an ex[)l()si()n, followed by an aggra- 
vated multitudinous eclio, aiul caused b}- the fall of a 
portion of tlie ice-wall into the bay, wlierc it floats away 
as an iceberg. As it splashes into the sea, the water flies 
up as in a geyser, and a wild wave dashes over the rocks, 
tosses about the steamer, and threatens to land it high 
and dry on the beach. 

After this spectacle has grown familiar, the boats are 
lowered, and every one goes ashore to climb up the side 
of the glacier and get views of its rugged surface, resem- 
bling a stormy ocean suddenly frozen with all its white- 
caps. Here also can be seen the dozen or more tributary 
glaciers which combine to make the Muir, and the semi- 
circle of snow-mountains whose sides they adorn. The 
amateur photographers have brouglit their apparatus 
along, and take groups of the passengers with this pic- 
turesque background ; and then the steamer's whistle 
summons all back to embark for Sitka. 

As the steamer slowly gets ready to depart, one 
notices what in the excitement had previously escaped 
notice, — tlie grooved and polished rocks, at least a 
thousand feet up the mountain side, indicating how high 



A WEEK IN ALASKA. 247 

the glacier must have been formerly. A century ago 
Glacier Bay was not navigable, and according to Indian 
tradition the Muir Glacier has receded five miles in three 
generations ; but this need not alarm tourists, as it still 
has a reserve to last a few thousand years longer. On 
leaving Glacier Bay we were so fortunate as to see the 
giants Crillon and Fairweather outlined against a [)er- 
fectly clear sky, illuminated by one of the most gor- 
geous sunsets 1 have ever seen, and the glories of which 
did not fade till ten o'clock. It is a superb mountain 
group, bearing a distant resemblance to the Monch- 
Eiger-Jungfrau group, as seen near Miirren, wliich 
Mr. Tyndall does not stand alone in regarding as the 
finest in Switzerland. 



XVI. 
ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

ADVANTAGES OF AN AUTUMNAL TRIP ENGLISH ASPECT 

OF VICTORIA VANCOUVER A " BOOM TOWN " THE 

FRAZER RIVER AND CANON EAGLE PASS REAPPEAR- 
ANCE OF THE COLUMBIA RIVER MOUNTAIN-SIDE FOR- 
ESTS COMPARISON WITH SWITZERLAND CONSTRUC- 
TION OF SNOW-SHEDS BANFF AND THE NATIONAL 

PARK THE BOW RIVER DEVIL's HEAD LAKE 

SULPHUR MOUNTAIN WINNIPEG AND LAKE SUPERIOR. 

The dense smoke from forest foes, which, by obscur- 
ing the grand mountain scenery of Oregon and Wash- 
ington during July and August, so often makes summer 
travel in those States an illusion and a disappointment, 
also extends into British Columbia, as far east as Banff, 
the Canadian National Park, sometimes called the 
Yellowstone Park of Canada. Tourists who, on their 
return from Alaska, wish to proceed to the East via 
the Canadian Pacific Railway, will therefore do well to 
postpone this trip till after the middle of September, 
unless there have been some heavy rains earlier to put 
out the fires and lay the smoke. Rain on the coast 
means snow in the mountains, and no one need be told 
that half the beauty, grandeur, and apparent height of 
the three great mountain chains which this railroad 
traverses, depends on a new cloak of magnifying snow, 
248 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 249 

And an autumnal trip has this further advantage, that 
the foliage along the banks of the upper Columbia River 
will wear its most brilliant tints of red and gold, which 
constitute one of the greatest charms of this tour, con- 
trasting delightfully with the snow-capped peaks on 
every side. 

Although Vancouver is really the Pacific terminus 
of this Canadian railroad, the project of making Vic- 
toria the terminus by building bridges over the chain 
of islands which in some places almost connect the 
mainland with Vancouver's Island, having been aban- 
doned, Victoria practically remains the starting-point; 
for a boat leaves this city early in the morning to con- 
nect with the daily east-bound train ; and most tourists 
make it a point to spend a day in the capital of British 
Columbia before starting, not only because Victoria is 
interesting on account of its fine location, but because 
here many Americans for the first time get a glimpse of 
English life. For Victoria is English to the backbone, 
— as English as Montreal, or more so, because the sim- 
ilarity of the climate of Vancouver's Island to that of 
Southern England (due to the effects, respectively, of 
the Japan Current and the Gulf Stream) enables the 
English in this Pacific city to surround their houses as 
at home, with fine lawns and trees, and gardens in which 
flowers are in bloom all the year round, snow being 
almost as unknown as in Southern California. Built 
on gently undulating ground, — such as is characteristic 
of old England, — the very location of Victoria differs 
from that of the " American " cities on the Sound, with 
their sloping hills and precipices. Nor are the streets 
laid out with the geometrical regularity so universal in 
the United States. The ladies on horseback, the nu- 



250 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

merous churches, the animated streets on Saturday even- 
ing, the abundant beef markets, the pirated American 
novels in the book-stalls, the substantial appearance of 
the houses and many other things remind one of the 
fact that here we are in America indeed, but not in the 
United States. But the most utterly utter anglicism 
in Victoria is the fact that if you want to leave a valise 
or parcel at the steamship office or elsewhere, you get 
no check or receipt for it, but have to rely on the re- 
ceiver's memory to see that no one else carries it off. At 
the present rate of progress it will take another century 
or two to get the idea of a numbered brass check, so 
simple, rapid, and convenient, through the British skull. 
After inspecting the sights of Victoria, including 
Chinatown and the naval station at Esquimalt, we seek 
our cabin on the elegant steamer wliich leaves very 
early in the morning for Vancouver. The parting 
whistles wake us up, and for a while we gaze at the 
scenery from our bed, through the window. The shores 
are here more mountainous and higher than in Puget 
Sound, and gradually, indeed, the scenery becomes so 
Alaskan in character that we jump out of bed and dress 
hastily at this unseemly hour, lest we miss some fine 
effects ; and well it is that we did so, for straight ahead 
are some superb mountain forms which look coal-black 
in the dim, semi-foggy atmosphere. The island of Van- 
couver (three hundred miles in length, with moun- 
tains nine thousand feet in height, and still largely 
unexplored) gradually disappears in the distance, and 
the city of Vancouver, on the mainland, comes into 
view. Its location reminds one again of Tacoma or 
Seattle, and in other respects, too, this brand-new city 
seems much more American than Victoria. While 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 251 

Victoria, as a town, was incorporated almost thirty 
years ago (1862), and has grown steadily to its pop- 
ulation of twelve thousand, Vancouver is a "boom 
town" of the most ultra-American fashion. In 1886, 
its site was a dense forest, and to-day it has a jDopulation 
of ten thousand — a growth almost equal to that of 
Tacoma, and for similar reasons, — Oriental trade, lum- 
ber, fisheries, etc. Subsidized steamers run hence every 
few weeks to Japan, China, and Australia ; and this 
circumstance alone would suffice to make of Vancouver 
a city which will run a close race with Seattle and 
Tacoma. 

A European could hardly be made to believe that 
this city of ten thousand had grown up in four years in 
the midst of a gloomy forest of firs. What strikes the 
observer is not so much the number of the buildings as 
their appearance, — solid, substantial granite and brick 
buildings four to five stories high, and many of them 
of real architectural merit and individuality, — buildings 
such as are usually only seen in cities of one hundred 
thousand inhabitants. But this anomaly will disappear 
in a few years with the growth of the city, together 
with the still more striking anomaly presented by the 
numerous blackened stumps which still stand every- 
where between the superb stone buildings, as no one 
has had time yet to remove them. Usually clearings 
are made for wheatfields by farmers, but here the forest 
was cleared away for a metropolis — and in the eager 
hurry the stumps were left standing. 

A striking peculiarity of Vancouver is the very large 
size and number of windows, both in public buildings 
and private residences, — evidently suggested by the 
necessity of getting as much light as possible during 



252 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

the many cloudy days which this mountainous region 
is responsible for ; but that sunshine also is abundant is 
attested by the fact that pumpkins and even tomatoes 
ripen in the gardens. English influence is shown in the 
astounding number of churches already built, and others 
in process of erection. Everybody carries a prayer-book 
on Sundays, and all the stores are closed. Finall}-, men- 
tion must be made of the fact that the Canadian Pacific 
Railway has built here a magnificent hotel, equal in every 
respect to the fine Tacoma Hotel built some years ago by 
the Northern Pacific Railroad, and to the new Hotel Port- 
land in Oregon's chief city. The scenery embraces the 
Cascade range, with Mt. Baker, the Olympic mountains, 
and the peaks of Vancouver Island ; and the city has 
good wharfage, water, and electric light. With such 
advantages it will continue to eat its way rapidly into 
the dense surrounding forest. 

The Frazer River, almost as widely famed as the Co- 
lumbia for its abundant salmon and its superb scenery, 
enters the Sound about ten miles from Vancouver, at 
New Westminster, which had hoped to be the terminus 
of the railway, but now has to content itself with being 
the headquarters of the salmon-canning and lumber 
export trade. It is connected by a branch road with 
New Westminster Junction, a station on the transconti- 
nental road, and is reached at 13.30 o'clock by our train 
which had left Vancouver at 12.45. The Canadian 
Pacific Railway has very sensibly adopted the custom 
of naming the hours from noon to midnight, 13 to 24 
o'clock. Passengers unused to this method need only 
subtract 12 from those figures to feel at home ; and after 
a day or two, 20 o'clock will seem as natural to them as 
8 P.M. Nor is this the only thing in which this Cana- 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 253 

dian road could teach our American roads a useful 
lesson, as we shall see later on. 

After leaving Vancouver, and before reaching West- 
minster, the train for some time runs along Burrard 
Inlet, on which is situated Fort Moody, another town 
which had hoped to be chosen as terminus, and actually 
did enjoy that privilege for a short time. The shores 
of the Inlet are beautifully wooded, and some of the 
trees are of enormous size. At the crossing of Stave 
River a fine view is obtained of Mt. Baker, looking for- 
ward to the right, and the bridge over the Harrison 
River, where it meets the Frazer, also affords a pic- 
turesque view. For the next fifteen or sixteen hours 
the train follows the banks of the Frazer River and its 
tributaries, and this is one of the grandest sections of 
the route. At the first the Frazer is a muddy, yellow 
river, about the size of the Willamette above Oregon 
City, but more rapid and winding, and an occasional 
steamer may be seen floating along with the current, or 
slowly making headway against it. In some places the 
railway runs so close to the precipitous bank of the 
river that a handkerchief might be dropped from a car 
window into the swirling eddies fifty feet below. At 
other places it leaves room — and just room enough — 
for the old wagon road between the track and the river ; 
but it would take a cool driver, with much confidence 
in his horses, to remain on his wagon here when a train 
passes. At last the road itself becomes frightened and 
crosses the river on a bridge, whereupon it winds along 
the hill-side above the opposite bank, at a safe distance. 
This road was made during the Frazer River gold 
excitement in 1858, when twenty-five thousand miners 
flocked into this region, and wages for any kind of work 



254 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

were ten to eighteen dollars a day. To-day the metal no 
longer exists in what white men consider paying quan- 
tity; but Chinamen may still be seen along the river 
washing for remnants, their earnings being about fifty 
cents a day. There is also a "Ruby Creek" in this 
neighborhood, and some Indian habitations, and salmon- 
fishing places. Shortly before reaching Yale, which for 
a long time was the western end of the road, there is a 
slight intermission in the scenic drama, represented by 
some rich, level, agricultural lands — as if to give the 
passengers a moment's rest before the wonders of the 
Frazer Canon begin to monopolize their bewildered 
attention till darkness sets in and drops the curtain 
on the superb panorama. 

Yale, which is so completely shut in by high, frowning 
mountain walls on every side that the sun touches 
the village only during part of the day, has lost its 
importance since it ceased to be a terminus, and seems 
at present to be inhabited chiefly by Indians and half- 
breeds. The train is invaded by a bevy of half-breed 
girls with baskets of splendid apples and pears, which 
could not be beaten for size and flavor in any of our 
States, and indicate a possible use for these mountain 
regions in the future. And now the train j)lunges into 
the midst of the series of terrific gorges which consti- 
tute the Frazer Canon, and which make this railway 
literally the most gorge-ous in the world. Here were 
appalling engineering difficulties to overcome, which no 
private corporation without the most liberal government 
support could have undertaken. Yet the builders had 
to be thankful even for this wdld and rugged canon dug 
out by the Frazer River, without which the Cascade 
range would have been impassable. The palace cars of 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 255 

the Canadian Pacific, whicli contain all the best features 
of the Pullman cars, with home improvements, have a 
special observatory, with large windows, at the end of 
the train, whence the cauon should be viewed; but to 
see it at its best one must sit on the rear platform, so 
as to see at the same time both of the wild and precipi- 
tous canon walls, between which the river rushes along 
as if pursued by demons. At every curve you think 
the gorge must come to an end, but it only grows more 
stupendous, and the river, lashed into foam and fury, 
dashes blindly against the rocks which try to arrest its 
course. These rocks, ten to thirty feet wide and some- 
times twice as long, form many pretty little stone islands 
in the middle of the torrent, and are a characteristic 
feature of the caiion scenery. Numerous tunnels, resem- 
bling those on the Columbia River, are built through 
arches seemingly projecting over the river. The train 
plunges into them recklessly, but always comes out 
fresh and smiling on the other side, although it seems 
that if the bottom of the tunnel should by any chance 
drop out, the train would be precipitated into the river 
below. 

Once in a while the river takes a short rest, and in 
these comparatively calm stretches hundreds of beauti- 
ful large red fish can be seen from the train, in the clear 
water, struggling up stream. With their dark backs 
and bright red sides they form a sight which is none the 
less interesting when you are told that they are "only 
dog-salmon," which are not relished by whites, though 
the Indians eat them. 

The train stops for supper at North Bend, and here 
we are once more impressed with the fact that although 
we are in America, we are not in the United States. 



256 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

At our own stations, as soon as the train stops, there is 
a grand rush for the dining-room, the waiters dump 
half-a-dozen small dishes before each passenger, who 
attacks them nervously, with one eye on the door and 
his ears pricked up for the bell. It would be useless to 
extend the dining-time more than fifteen or twenty 
minutes, for in five minutes most of the small dishes 
are empty and in ten or twelve minutes not a soul is 
left at the tables, though the restaurateur has called out 
repeatedly, " Plenty of time," " Departure of the train 
will be announced." 

How differently they manage things on British soil ! 
There passengers sit down, unfold their napkins lei- 
surely, while the waiter-girl brings on the soup. There 
is a regular inenu, of so many courses, each of which is 
brought on separately. The conductor, after disposing 
of his share of the feast, waits at the door till the last 
passenger has of his own free will left the table, picking 
his teeth, and then calls out " All aboard." Time, forty- 
five minutes ; and at other stations similar scenes are 
enacted, with never less than half an hour for a meal. 
Yet the train is always on time. 

It must be admitted that it is not very difficult to be 
on time when the average speed for the first day is only 
seventeen miles an hour. There is danger from the 
boulders which may roll on the track from the steep 
cafion sides, and occasionally you see a sign along the 
track telling the engineer to " Go Cautiously — Four 
Miles an Hour." All the dangerous ground, how- 
ever, is covered by walkers, who go over the track an 
hour before each passenger train. 

During the night east-bound passengers will inevi- 
tably miss the fine scenery along the Thompson River, 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 257 

with the Thompson and Black canons ; bnt it should 
be stated that the time-table in both directions has been 
so aivanged that the best part of the route is traversed 
in the daytime ; and that consequently no radical 
change will perhaps ever be made. Passengers who are 
willing to get up at six may still see part of the Thomp- 
son River and get some fine views of Shuswap Lake as 
the train skirts its shores. Here, obviously, would be 
the place for lovers of sport to get off, for vast flocks 
of ducks and geese rise from the water as the train 
rushes past. About ten o'clock the train arrives at 
Craigellachie, which is notable as the spot where the 
rails from the east and west met, and where the last 
spike on this great continental road was driven in, on 
November 7, 1885. 

Scenic wonders now succeed one another with be- 
wildering rapidity throughout the day. This second 
day, in fact, represents the climax of the trip, and the 
attention is not allowed to flag for a second. However 
much such a confession may go against the grain of 
patriotism, every candid traA^eller must admit that there 
is nothing in the United States in the way of massive 
mountain scenery (except perhaps in Alaska) to compare 
with the glorious panorama which is unfolded on this 
route. Within thirty-six hours after leaving Vancouver 
we traverse three of the grandest mountain ranges in 
America, — the Cascades, Selkirks, and Rockies, — all of 
them the abode of eternal snow and glaciers, and all of 
them traversed through by canons which vie with each 
other in terrific grandeur. 

Before the Selkirks are reached the train passes the 
Columbia or Gold range, through the Eagle Pass, so 
called because it was discovered by watching an eagle's 



258 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

flight. Eagle Pass is a poetic and appropriate name, and 
yet I think it would be well to re-name this mountain 
pass and call it Mirror Lake Canon, because that would 
call the attention of tourists to what is its most char- 
acteristic feature, which may otherwise be overlooked. 
There are four lakes and many smaller bodies of water 
in this valley, in whose placid surface the finely sloped 
mountain ridges and summits of the pass are reflected 
with marvellous distinctness, so that here, as in the 
Yosemite Mirror Lake, the copy is more lovely than the 
original. Some of the mountain sides reflected in these 
mirrors are naked rocks, others are covered with living 
evergreen trees, and others still with dead trees. In 
the mirror these dead forests look hardly less beautiful 
than the living ones ; but in the original the eye dwells 
with more pleasure on the green forests which here, 
and almost everywhere in British Columbia, grow with 
the rank luxuriance of a Ceylon jungle. The soil under 
these dense tree-masses, consisting of decayed pine and 
fir needles, a foot deep and always moist, makes a 
paradise for lovely mosses and ferns. Here, also, is the 
home of the bear, and one would not have to walk far 
in this thicket to encounter a grizzly, black, or cinnamon 
bruin. 

On emerging from the Mirror Lake Canon, a great 
surprise awaits the passengers. The Columbia River — 
to which they had fancied the}^ had said a final farewell 
when they were ferried across it on the way from Port- 
land to Tacoma — suddenl}^ comes upon the scene again, 
as clear and as picturesque as ever; and even at this 
immense distance from its mouth still large enough to 
require a bridge half a mile long to cross it. A few 
hours later the train again crosses the Columbia, at 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 259 

Donald, where the river has become much smaller than 
it seems that it should in such a short distance. To get 
an explanation of this circumstance, it is interesting to 
glance at the map, and notice what an immense curve 
northward the Columbia has made in this interval in 
order to find a passage through the Selkirk range ; and 
in thus encircling the snowy Selkirks it has, of course, 
added to its volume the contents of innumerable glacier 
streams and mountain brooks. Its real sources are 
southeast of Donald, on the summit of the Rockies, 
separated by but a short distance from springs which run 
down on the eastern side and find their way through the 
Mississippi into the Gulf of Mexico. Thus do extremes 
meet. It would be difiicult to find anything so curious 
in the course of any other river as this immense, irreg- 
ular parallelogram which the Columbia here describes 
from its sources to Arrow Lake. 

Fortunately, railroad builders are not quite as depend- 
ent as rivers on deep caiions for getting over mountain 
barriers ; hence our train is not obliged to follow the 
Columbia in its great sweep around the Selkirks, but 
proceeds comparatively straight across this range towards 
the Rockies proper, via the Albert Canon, at an elevation 
of 2845 feet, in which the train makes a brief stop to 
enable passengers to look down into a flume in which 
the river, narrowed by the walls to twenty feet, rushes 
along three hundred feet directly beneath them. 

The snow-peaks of the Selkirks are now looming up 
on all sides, and the atmosphere becomes more bracing 
and Alpine as the train slowly creeps up the mountain 
side, doubling up on itself in a loop. The Glacier 
House is reached before long, and here every tourist 
who has time to spare should get off and spend a day 



260 ACROSS THE CANADIAN TACIFIC. 

or two, since next to Banff, in the National Park, this 
is the finest point along the whole route, scenically 
speaking, while the air is even more salubrious, cool, 
and intoxicating than at Banff, owing to the nearness 
of the glacier. It would be difficult, even in Switzer- 
land, to find a more romantic spot for a hotel than the 
location of the Glacier House. High peaks rise up on 
every side, so finely moulded, so deeply mantled with 
snow, and presenting such various aspects from different 
points of view, that we forget our disgust at the fact 
that, as usual in the West, these grand eternal peaks 
have been named after ephemeral mortals, — Browns, 
Smiths, and Joneses. The Grizzly and Cougar moun- 
tains are more aptly named, as these animals will long 
continue to abound in the impenetrable forests which 
adorn these peaks below the snow-line. Looking from 
the hotel towards the glacier, to the left is a peak 
which looks like the Matterhorn, the most unique moun- 
tain in Switzerland ; and what is still more striking, at 
its side is another, smaller peak, which is an exact copy 
of the Little Matterhorn. 

The greater part of the Selkirk region is still entirely 
unexplored ; and good mountain climbers who scorn to 
reascend the Swiss peaks, which have long since all 
been measured, named, and labelled, may here have 
their pick of first ascents. But the}^ will miss the con- 
veniences of the Swiss Alps, — well-informed guides, 
and hotels with all modern conveniences. Not even a 
satisfactory map has existed heretofore, and an English- 
man, W. S. Green, who published a book called " Among 
the Selkirk Glaciers " (1890) was obliged to make his 
own map which is added to his volume. It is tan- 
talizing to read of Alpine paradises, " which no being 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 261 

higher than a bear had entered before " Mr. Green and 
his companion, and of " a perfect ocean of peaks and 
glaciers," etc., which they coukl see on elevated points. 
Who knows but that a hundred jea,vs hence there will 
be as many visitors to the Selkirks every summer as 
now crowd into Switzerland ? 

The Glacier Hotel will always remain a popular 
point, because it is so near a great glacier of almost 
Alaskan dimensions. It is only about a mile thence to 
the foot of the glacier, which has the moraine of huge 
boulders, the gaping crevasses, the stream at the end, 
and all the other accessories of ice-rivers. At noon, on 
a warm day, when the ice melts rapidly, the roar of the 
glacial stream can be distinctly heard far away ; but as 
the sun sinks lower, the water flows more scantily, and 
at night the brook is silent or merely whispers. 

The principal difference between the Swiss Alps and 
the Selkirk range lies in the aspect of the mountain 
sides below the snow-line. These, in Switzerland, are 
green meadows dotted with browsing cows ; while here 
they consist of superb forests of giant cedars, Avith bears 
in place of cows, and presenting one unbroken mass of 
dark green, except where an avalanche has tobogganed 
down and opened what seems at a distance like a road- 
way, but is found to be a battle-field strewn with the 
corpses of cedars three and four feet in diameter. 

The most imposing view of such a mountain forest, 
unbroken by a single avalanche path, is obtained from 
the snow-sheds just above the hotel. Sitting outside 
these sheds and looking toward the left, you see a 
vast mountain slope covered with literally millions of 
dark green trees. Why has none of the world's great- 
est poets ever been permitted to gaze on such a Selkirk 



262 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

forest, that he might have aroused in his unfortunate 
readers who are not privileged to see one, emotions 
similar to those inspired by it ? But I fear that neither 
verse nor jjhotograplis, nor even the painter's brush, can 
ever more than suggest the real grandeur of such a 
forest scene. This mountain is not snow-crowned in 
September, but its wooded summit makes a sharp green 
line against the snow-peaks beyond and above. From 
this summit down to the foot stand the green giant 
cedars, as crowded as the yellow stalks in a Minnesota 
wheatfield. But in place of the flat monochrome of a 
wheatfield, our sloping forest presents a most fascinat- 
ing color spectacle. The slanting rays of the sun tinge 
the waving tree-tops with a deeply saturated yellowish 
green, curiously interspersed with a mosaic of dark, 
almost black streaks and j^atches of shade, due to clouds 
and other causes, and the whole edged by the dazzling 
snow. 

If we descend and enter this forest, a cathedral-like 
awe thrills the nerves. Daylight has not the power to 
penetrate to the ground hidden by this dense mass of 
tree-tops rising two hundred to three hundred feet into 
the air — except that an occasional ray of sunlight may 
steal in for a second, like a flash of lightning. And 
the carpet on which this forest stands I In America we 
rarely see a house, even of a day-laborer, without a car- 
pet : why, then, should these royal trees do without one ? 
The carpet is itself a miniature forest of ferns and 
mosses, luxuriating in riotous profusion on an ever-moist 
soil, the products of thousands of generations of pine 
needles. Nor is this carpet a monochrome, for the green 
is varied by numerous berries of various kinds, most of 
which are red, as they should be — the complementary 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 263 

color of green. But there are also acres of blueberries as 
large as cherries ; and if you will tear off a few branches 
of these and bring them to the young bear chained up 
near the Glacier Hotel, he will be very grateful, and 
you will find it amusing to watch him eating them. 

There is music, too, in this Forest Cathedral, Mdiich is 
heard to best advantage from the elevated gallery 
occupied by the snow-sheds. It takes a trained ear to 
distinguish the steady, lippling staccato sound of a 
snow-fed mountain brook from the prolonged legato 
sigh of a pine forest, swelling to fortissimo, and dying 
away by turns. In the romantic spot we have chosen, 
these sounds are blended, the music of the torrents be- 
ing caught up by the sloping forest as by a huge sound- 
ing-board, and increased in loudness by being mingled 
with the mournful strains of the tree-tops, as orchestral 
colors are blended by modern masters. Those err who 
say there is no music in nature. It is not in " Siegfried " 
alone that the Waldwebe^i is musical, that leaves sing as 
well as birds, while the thunder occasionally adds its 
loud basso prof undo. 

The aesthetic exhilaration which we owe to these 
poetic sights and sounds is intensified by the salubrious 
breezes which waft this music to our ears. Born among 
the clouds and glaciers, they are perfumed in passing 
across the forests, warmed by the sun's rays in passing 
over the valley ; and every breath of this elixir adds a 
day to one's life. It is not surprising that mountains 
should make the best health resorts ; for do they not 
themselves understand and obey the laws of health? 
They keep their heads cool under a snow-cap, their feet 
warm in a mossy blanket, and their sides covered with a 
dense fii' overcoat. 



264 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

In comparing the Alpine scenes of British Columbia 
with those of Switzerland, I should have noted one 
more advantage in favor of the former, namely, the 
rows and groups of giant cedars through the spaces 
between which glimpses of the snow ridges and peaks, 
and of the green slopes leading up to them, are caught. 
This always adds a lovely frame to the picture, and 
gives infinite variety. Even the stumps and fallen 
trees in the foreground, whether they are the result of 
an avalanche or left there by the builders of the rail- 
road, add an element of wildness and desolation which 
harmonizes better with Alpine scenery than meadows, 
cows, and dairy huts. 

But we must not linger too long at the Glacier House 
and amid the Selkirks, for another range of the Rockies, 
equally grand, awaits us beyond. I have mentioned 
the curve on which the snow-sheds are built, just above 
the hotel, whence such a fine view of peaks and forests 
is to be obtained. We who have been able to stop over 
a day have had time to enjoy this view at leisure. 
But those who are unable to interrupt their journey 
would have missed one of the finest sights in America 
had it not been for the most commendable wisdom and 
liberality which prompted the builders of the Canadian 
Pacific Railroad to construct a second track outside of 
the snow-sheds, which is used in summer, so that every 
passenger can, for a moment at least, feast his eyes on 
this incomparable scene. Of all commendable features 
of the Canadian road which I have had occasion to 
praise, this one most merits imitation on some of our 
"American'' railways, unless an exception be the de- 
lightfully convenient " Time-Table,'' in form of a fort}'- 
four page booklet, which is given free to passengers, 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 26;i 

and which contains brief notes on all the stations and 
principal scenic points, while the hour at which the 
train arrives at each is printed in the margin, both for 
east-bound and for west-bound trains. 

On passing the snow-sheds it is interesting to study 
their appearance and note with what an apparently lav- 
ish waste of timber they have been constructed. But 
it must be remembered that timber is more than abun- 
dant here, and that the trees that had to be cut down to 
make room for the track more than sufficed for all the 
sleepers, sheds, and other protective bulwarks against 
snow, landslides, or avalanches. The log-remnants, lying 
about on both sides of the track, will soon be covered 
with mosses and ferns and add a new element of loveli- 
ness to the scene. And there is another Avay in which 
the railway atones to the vegetable kingdom for the 
damage caused by passing through the forests. As the 
train speeds along, its suction whirls into the air, like 
snowflakes, the light-winged seeds rij)ening along the 
track ; and thus it becomes a great distributer of herbs 
and flowers. 

Twenty minutes after leaving the Glacier House 
the train reaches its highest point on the Selkirks, — 
4275 feet. Then the descent begins, and we leave 
the vicinity of the glaciers, though the snow-peaks that 
give rise to them continue for hours to gladden the 
sight. What had seemed more or less isolated peaks 
near by, are now seen to be merely the highest points 
of a vast conglomeration of mountain ridges, which 
are thrown into ever-new groups as the train winds 
along the mountain sides. In rapid succession several 
bridges are passed, built over brooks several hundred 
feet below. To the right, far below us, is a long, 



266 ACROSS thp: Canadian pacific. 

narrow valley, painted a mellow golden 3'ellow by the 
setting sun (it sets here at three) ; and winding through 
it is the Beaver River, which from this height looks as 
small as if it were seen through an inverted spy-glass. 
Glimjises of the Rockies are now caught, and at 16.45 
o'clock Donald is reached, where we once more cross 
the Columbia, which starts out hence for its grand 
curve around the Selkirks, The river here is about as 
large as the Rhine at Schaffhausen, and yet the passen- 
gers discover to their amazement that even here it is 
navigable, and that if they wish to make a hundred- 
mile trip, which is said to equal in grandeur an}- part 
of the Columbia River, they need only stop over at 
Golden City, two hours beyond Donald, and take the 
small weekly boat which runs from that station up the 
river, charging six dollars for the round trip. Golden 
City owes its name to a former mining excitement, but 
its present appearance suggests that Golden Fizzle 
would be a more appropriate name. 

For the greater part of the two hours which the train 
requires to go from Donald to Golden City it passes 
along the bank of the Columbia River ; and there is, 
perhaps, no part of the whole route where grandeur and 
beauty are so admirably united as here, especially in the 
autumn. The grandeur lies in the snowy summits 
which frame in this Columbia valley — the Selkirks on 
one side, the Rockies on the other. The beauty lies in 
the river itself and in the 3'oung trees and bushes along 
its banks, dressed in fall styles and colors, some as 
richly yellow as a golden-rod, others as deeply purple or 
crimson as fuchsias or begonias, the yellow predomi- 
nating. These colored trees occur in groups and streaks 
along the river, and in isolated patches on the mountain 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 267 

sides, where they might he mistaken for brown mosses 
or lichen-covered rocks. There may he as beautifully 
colored trees in our Eastern forests, but they are not 
mixed, as here, with young evergreen pines, nor have 
they a framework of snow-mountains, like these, to 
enhance their beauty. High up on the ridges there is 
another variety of trees of a beautiful russet color set 
off by a deep blue sky. Talk of color symphonies ! 
Here they are — miles of them — long as a Wagner 
trilogy, and as richly orchestrated ! Even the masses 
of blackened logs and stumps — if one can set aside for 
a moment all thought of pity for the poor charred trees, 
so happy before the fire in their green luxuiiance, and 
of the sad waste of useful timber — enhance the charm 
of this scene by contrast. 

I have said that the time-table of the Canadian Pacific 
Railway is so arranged that the finest scenery is passed in 
daylight, in both directions; but of course there must be 
exceptions, and, as a matter of fact, as long as the road 
crosses the three great mountain ranges of the Cascades, 
Selkirks, and Rockies, there is hardly a mile Avhich does 
not offer something worth seeing. Consequently, as 
darkness again closes in soon after leaving Golden, east- 
bound passengers must resign themselves to lose sight 
of the Kickinghorse Caiion, the Beaverfoot and Otter- 
tail mountains, the large glacier on Mt. Stephen, etc., 
— which is all the more provoking as they have to sit 
up anyway till midnight, when Banff is reached; for 
of course, every tourist who is in his right senses and 
not a slave to duty gets off here to spend a few days in 
the Canadian National Park. 

It was Goethe, I believe, who spoke somewhere of the 
pleasure of arriving at a place famed for its beauty, in 



268 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

the darkness of night, thus reserving for the morning 
hours, when our senses are refreshed by sleep, the first 
impressions of the scenery. Passengers wlio iiave not 
" read up " on the subject, woukl little imagine, as the 
midnight coach takes them to the Canadian Pacific Rail- 
way Hotel, as it is called, that they are in some of the 
finest mountain valleys in the world, and that the hotel 
itself is as picturesquely perched on top of a hill as any 
castle on the Rhine. But no castle on the Rhine boasts 
a view comparable to that which is spread before them 
in the morning. The best place to enjoy it is in the 
open rotunda built behind the hotel, just over the preci- 
pice. Far below, the clear and rapid Bow River winds 
along in graceful curves, forming on the left a series 
of turbulent cascades terminating in a fall which is 
visible from the rotunda, though of course at this dis- 
tance less effective than from the river-bank. Below 
the falls the river hastens on in the direction of the 
Peechee Mountain, which forms the boundary wall of 
the valley east of the hotel and, with the wide ridge on 
the right, is the most interesting sight in the whole Park. 
This ridge seldom presents the same appearance on suc- 
cessive days, and hardly two photographs of it are alike, 
owing to the fact that the melting snow, after a storm, 
constantly stripes and mottles it in different patterns. 
Though the ridge, Avhich is several thousand feet wide, 
seems to be absolutely perpendicular, the snow still 
clings to it and j^aints it white, except in one section, 
near the summit, where a black, snowless streak runs 
across horizontally, dividing the snow-wall into two 
sections. 

To the right of the hotel are some sharp-pointed 
peaks inclining over each other, somewhat like the 



ACKOSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 269 

Three Brothers in the Yosemite Valley, " playing leap- 
frog" ; and to the left is the massive Cascade Mountain. 
The most important excursions for those whose time is 
limited to a day, are a trip by boat up the Bow River, 
as far as Vermilion Lake, in the morning, and a drive 
to Devil's Head Lake in the afternoon. 

The Bow River excursion, which is made on a little 
steam-launch whenever a party is ready for it, has only 
one drawback, — the ugly, bristling corpses of charred 
pines on both sides of the river, the effects of a recent 
most deplorable forest fire. Arrangements have been 
made with lumbermen for the removal of these charred 
trunks, but it wll take years to finish the job, as there 
are thousands of them. Fortunately there is already 
a new undergrowth, and in a few years the vigorous 
young trees will have covered up the stumps. In many 
places, however, the green trees have been spared, and 
in these sections matchless views of the surrounding 
mountains may be obtained through the loveliest green 
foregrounds. Winding about as it does, the Bow River 
shows all the mountains included in the Park, and 
many others, with endless changes of the point of view 
and grouping. Among the most imposing peaks two 
will be specially impressed on the memory, — Mt. Edith, 
a sharp, bare, rocky formation, apparently inaccessible, 
and the extremely interesting Copper Mountain, shaped 
like a heart, whose two sides, as seen from the upper 
Bow River, are surprisingly symmetrical. In the centre 
is a rocky projection of a regular shape. 

There are a few shallow places where one can see 
logs and dead trees lying at the bottom ; but generally 
the small river is wonderfully deep, so that it seems 
more like the arm of a lake than a mountain stream. 



270 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

Below the falls, however, it becomes too shallow and 
turbulent for navigation, and this suggests the theory 
that the cascades and falls were caused by a landslide, 
or rather a rockslide, which blocked up the river and 
deepened the part above this obstruction. 

The water of the Bow River comes direct from the 
Rocky Mountain glaciers and springs, and is, therefore, 
as clear as a crystal, and if you want a delicious di'ink, 
you need only dip your cup into the water and help 
yourself. What a boon such a copious mountain 
stream, free from the faintest suspicion of microbes, 
would be near a large city ! There are fish in this 
water, as a matter of course, and wild ducks can be 
seen swimming about on it every day, from the hotel 
rotunda. The part of the river below the falls is also 
well worth a visit. The Spray River, almost as wide 
as the Bow, and even more turbulent, enters the Bow 
just below the falls; and for those who are fond of 
listening to the music and the babble of brooks, a 
finer spot than this could not be found. Below the 
bridge, over the Spray, is a mountain side rapidly 
crumbling away, and here a stone avalanche may be 
heard and seen every five minutes. All around are 
groups and groves of straight, slender mountain poplars, 
with smooth, pale olive bark and golden autumn leaves. 
There is something fresh and delightfully healthy in 
the appearance of these young mountain trees, sugges- 
tive of trout bred in icy brooks. It is impossible to 
walk a hundred steps without being arrested by 
the really thrilling beauty of these tree-groups, — the 
blackish green pines encircling the poplars and birches, 
whose leaves are resplendent in the deepest dyes, 
representing their transition from fresh, light green, 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 271 

through a dozen shades of greenish yellow, till a deep 
golden yellow is attained as the climax. While the 
leaves are mostly yellow, the numerous kinds of ber- 
ries — bunchberries, mountain-ash, sweet-brier, etc. — are 
red, and one of the most exquisite bits of color is con- 
tributed by the scarlet leaves of the wild gooseberry. 
The berries of the sweet-brier are much larger than in 
Oregon, though the bushes are only a foot in height, 
while in Oregon they are eight to ten, and with their 
thousands of roses or berries form a most lovely sight. 

Forest symphonies like these are also to be seen in 
abundance on the way to Lake Minnewonka, better 
known as Devil's Head Lake. An excellent carriage 
road has been constructed by the government, the dis- 
tance being nine miles. For the most part the road 
runs along the foot of precipitous palisade-like moun- 
tains, in measuring which the famous Hudson River 
palisades might be used as a yard-stick, or standard of 
measure. These mountain sides are beautifully striped 
and mottled with snow, in a manner that seems to be 
peculiar to this region, and is repeated on a still grander 
scale on the steep canon walls which form the sides of 
Lake Minnewonka. Before reaching the lake, a most 
imposing range of the Rockies — a wild jumble of snow- 
peaks — is seen on the right, beyond the river. Alto- 
gether, this drive to the lake is one of the finest in the 
world, and the lake itself forms a fitting climax. It is 
a curiosity among mountain lakes, being fourteen miles 
long and only one to two miles wide, both its sides 
being steep and beautifullj^ formed mountains. It might 
in fact be described as a canon filled with a lake — as the 
Yosemite Valley is supposed to have been at one time. 
Its average depth is only forty feet, but owing to its 



272 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

peculiar oblong shape and its vertical sides, it is greatly 
subject to mountain " draughts," which are likely, with- 
out a moment's notice, to assume the form of wild and 
sudden squalls. In the morning the surface of the lake 
forms a perfect mirror of the surrounding peaks, and at 
certain hours and states of the wind it is tinted with 
the most exquisite shades of green, blue, purple, and 
violet. In this surface iridescence it resembles Lake 
Tahoe ; but in another respect there is a remarkable 
difference between these two lakes ; for although Tahoe 
has an altitude of almost two thousand feet above 
Minnewonka, and is also surrounded by snow-moun- 
tains, its waters never freeze, even though the snow on 
its shores be ten feet high ; while the Canadian lake 
does freeze to a depth of two to four feet in February, 
and then forms an admirable surface for ice-boats and 
for skating. The lake is full of large trout which are 
still quite abundant, as they were not fished for till 
about four years ago. 

The government is so proud of this lake that it has 
appointed a keeper to prevent it from being stolen. 
He keeps an inn on the end nearest to Banff, and he 
says that so far the best catch made by a tourist in one 
day was eighteen trout, weighing seventy-eight pounds. 
The Vanderbilt party, in 1889, caught one weighing 
twenty-eight pounds, and in 1888 the keeper said that 
he and the cook caught one weighing fifty-three pounds, 
which was probably served cinn grano salts. (Please 
remember that I am merely repeating what was told to 
me.) The incident will probably recall to the reader 
the story of the heathen whose budding faith was 
nipped when a missionary told him the story of Jonah 
and the whale. "When it comes to fish stories," he 



■p^. ;^- ' • , 




^B^^;jr|;%|l. 


^i 


^^^^j^mnm.,^ j^^ .v^ 


Ij 


/w- .,^^^^^1 


w 


li^ .Tii^^MMSBBII^Ml^B^B^BwiH! 


w -^'^aK^wHSBSfl^^^ 




w 




W^^^ . :: 






WMr ... . K 


V\ 


js^^fiM^MIIF -^H 


%t 


^^' '.S^^^m^''^^' "4HF ^ 


>': 


K^^^^^^^^ S^t^ ' -■■^'" 


kl 


L^ ' t^^^^^S'^'^'-^- '^' 


^^^^» ;:;; ^' :' 




Hife-''~^SW^»M^S^^^* - **" ■ /''^'■^ 


I 


l^^^^^^^^^'^^mii^' ' 




^^^^^^^^^^^^i'^^^r ' '^^^liii^^^^^H^^B. : ' 


^E 


^' '-^^gaifaMBw' - -Mf-i^^^Hi 


%m 








^k 


■l^p^H^;' ,^;'>^. 


i 


i^^^ ""'' ^ ^^^^^^^^^B 






i 




WW- 



ACKOSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 273 

remarked subsequently to a friend, "no one can be 
trusted." I must add, however, in justice to the keeper, 
that a fifty-three-pound mountain trout, abstractly con- 
sidered, is not impossible. Very large hooks are used 
to pull these lake trout in, and though they cannot be 
young, their firm pink flesh is of delicious flavor and not 
at all toughened by age. The keeper sneered at those 
tourists who come from the Canadian Pacific Railroad 
Hotel, and fish from noon to five o'clock, — a time when 
no self-respecting trout will bite, — and then go away 
growling that there are no fish in the lake. He also 
said that there was at present no road around the lake, 
except an Indian trail, but that a road was projected, 
as was the placing of a small steamboat on the lake. 

Besides the drive to this lake (which passes through 
the village of Banff, about a mile from the hotel), 
there are other excellent roads in several directions, 
notably those to the Lower and the Middle and Upper 
Sulphur Springs. The Canadian National Park bases 
its claim to the attention of the travelling public on the 
curative properties of its sulphur springs quite as much 
as on its scenic attractions. On approaching the Lower 
Springs, the fumes bring back memories of Yellowstone 
Park, as do the curious, gray, brittle stones and the 
aspect of the soil. Bathers can have their choice of a 
subterranean plunge in a dimly lighted grotto or cave, 
which might have been the abode of a mountain nymph, 
or in an open pool, framed in by the bath-house on one 
side, and on the other by rocks, from which the plunge 
may be made. The temperature of the grotto is 80°; 
of the open pool, 92°. In the latter the hot water bub- 
bles up from a hole in the bottom, and the boys dive 
down, put an arm into it, and bring up a handful of 



274 ACKOSS THE CAJS'ADIAN PACIFIC. 

very coarse-grained quicksand. Hours can be agreeably 
spent here, and the sulphur odor is not unpleasantly 
noticeable ; but after the bath one smells for hours like 
a walking parlor-match. In front of the bath-house is 
a fountain, the water in which is so strongly impreg- 
nated that soap cannot be used in washing in it : yet 
the ice which forms on it in winter is pure from all 
mineral matter. Animals are fond of this water. I 
saw a dog drink it (in Oregon I saw a dog drinking 
sea-water, for that matter), and the keeper of the bath- 
house says that the cows and horses often come up from 
the valley to drink it, although there is abundant pure 
water below. 

The Middle and Upper Sulphur Springs are farther 
up the same mountain — ajjpropriately named Sulphur 
Mountain. The carriage road, three and one-half miles 
long, passes through a dense jungle of young pines, no 
thicker than birches, crowded like Chinese in a tenement 
house, and therefore looking lugubrious and unhealthy. 
Most of these will have to be smothered in the struggle 
for existence, before the strongest ones can get breath- 
ing-room enough to develop into full-grown trees. The 
silence of a mountain forest reigns here, rendered audi- 
ble by the faint, distant babble of the Bow and Spray 
rivers. We pass by the road which leads off to the 
Middle Springs, and soon reach the Upper Springs, 
around which half-a-dozen bath-houses are grou2:)ed, 
whose favorite sign-board, or trade-mark, is a j^air of 
crutches suspended from a tree, with this notice at- 
tached : " I came here with these, and left without 
them." A few yards above these huts the water can 
be seen gushing out of the mountain side in a strong 
current, and so hot that one can hardly hold his hand 



ACEOSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 275 

in it — 110 to 116°. These baths are supposed to be good 
for rheumatism and skin and blood diseases. I met an 
old miner here who has hunted gold on four continents, 
and who entertained me with stories of his adventures 
in Alaska, and how he " blew up " Mr. Muir for mak- 
ing such a fuss over Glacier Bay, where the glaciers 
were mere pygmies compared with some that he had 
come across on his prospecting tours in the interior. 
He had offered to guide Mr. Muir to these, but the 
professor seemed to be afraid of the hardships and 
perils, and refused to go ; whereat our miner was still 
so indignant that he threatened that if he had more 
skill in using the pen, he would write to the Eastern 
papers and expose him as a fraud. He said that he 
was going back to Alaska as soon as cured, because 
he believes there is untold wealth in that country, and 
added that if any " literary feller " from New York 
wanted to accompany him, he would guarantee him 
material for a book that would make Eastern people's 
hair curl. 

From the Upper Springs the hotel can be reached by 
means of a short-cut footpath through the dense woods, 
following the flume which carries the sulphur water 
down to the hotel. It is used, of course, only for special 
bathing purposes ; but all the water seems here, as in 
the Yellowstone Park, to be impregnated with traces 
of sulphur : for if you wash with soap and leave the 
water in the basin over night, curds will be found in it 
in the morning ; and in the men's wash-room there are 
yellow streaks in the marble basins, where the water 
runs into them. Sulphur water is supposed to be good 
for the stomach, but I have on several occasions found 
it to be just the opposite. 



276 ACEOSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

The Central Pacific Railroad Hotel has electric lights 
in every room, and is well managed, and its terms reason- 
able. For those who have to study economy, there are 
smaller inns and a sanitarium not far from the hotel, 
with a few stores and a row of tents. 

Summing up on the Canadian National Park, we 
may say that it has not so many natural wonders as the 
Yellowstone Park, — no geysers, steam-holes, gold-bot- 
tomed rivulets, paint-pots, nor anything to place beside 
the Yellowstone Cailon and Falls. But the Minne- 
wonka Lake may fairly challenge comparison with the 
Yellowstone Lake, and the mountain scenery is grander 
in the Canadian Park, and the snow and glaciers are 
nearer, though not so near as at the Glacier House, 
where the air is in consequence cooler and more bracing 
in summer than even at Banff. As the Canadian Park 
is only twenty-six miles long and ten vnde, while the 
YelloAvstone Park is about sixty-two by fifty-four miles, 
the former can be seen in much less time than it takes 
to do justice to the latter. 

When we get ready to leave Banff we have to take 
the midnight train, so there is no chance to say good 
by to the mountains. But we have seen so much of 
them since leaving Vancouver, that we have felt almost 
tempted to cry out to Nature, "Hold, enough — less 
would be more ! '" Now we get ample opportunity to 
ruminate in peace over our crowded impressions. When 
we get up we are on the prairie ; we go to bed in 
the prairie, after traversing a territory larger than a 
European kingdom ; again we rise on the prairie, and 
again go to bed on it ; and not till Lake Superior is 
approached does the scenery once more become inter- 
esting. There is little local traffic west of Winnipeg, 



ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 277 

towns being few and far between. A dining-car is 
attached to the train, and on the follo^ving day is 
replaced by another. The train makes a bee-line for 
Winnipeg, as there are no more " loops " to climb 
mountain sides on, no more puffing engines pulling in 
front and pushing behind, no more noisy bridges and 
trestle-works to cross. We are moving alonsf at the 
rate of half a thousand miles a day, yet the view is 
always the same, varied only by the sight of buifalo 
tracks, — the autographs of departed herds, — a few 
coyotes, and some begging squaws with their pappooses 
at the stations — only this and nothing more, except 
the prairie itself, on which it is said a rider who sets 
out on a day's journey can see before starting the place 
where he will be in the evening. The train stops a few 
hours at Winnipeg, where some of the passengers use 
this first opportunity to branch off to the United States ; 
then on we speed again over the prairie. There is an 
occasional stretch of dark, ploughed soil in the distance, 
which causes you to look twice to make sure that it is 
not the ocean ; and when finally the train suddenly 
plunges into a tunnel, you are almost as much startled, 
after all this prairie monotony, as if an Atlantic steamer 
on the way to Liverpool took you through a tunnel ; in 
fact, you are at first disposed to fancy that this tunnel 
had been artificially created by the engineers as a 
practical joke on the passengers. It is only a prelude, 
however, to the Lake Shore scenery, which, with the 
wild rocks and cliffs on one side, and an occasional 
glimpse of the lake on the other, forms one of the most 
fascinating fifty miles of the whole road. Instead of 
going along this north shore of Lake Superior in a wide 
curve, passengers have the option of taking the steamer 



278 ACROSS THE CANADIAN PACIFIC. 

from Port Arthur to Sault Ste. Marie, and thence rejoin- 
ing the transcontinental road. 

As a general thing, it is no doubt wiser to take the 
Canadian Pacific Railway westward than eastward, as 
the scenic climax is on the western side. However, it 
is quite possible to avoid the feeling of anticlimax on 
going east, if we conclude the trip with the Tliousand 
Islands and the Rapids of the St. Lawrence, together 
with Montreal ; or with Niagara Falh and the Hudson 
River. The Pacific slope no doubt is scenically far 
more attractive than the Atlantic ; still, there are some 
things in the East which even California would be 
proud to add to her attractions. 



XVTT. 
THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK 

AN INDEPENDENT JOURNEY ON HORSEBACK GEYSERS AND 

PAINT-POTS WAITING FOR AN ERUPTION YELLOWSTONE 

CANON AND FALLS THE LAKE AND ITS TROUT A TENT 

HOTEL MYSTERIOUS SOUNDS. 

Like all the other transcontinental railroads, the 
Northern Pacific has its grandest scenery on the western 
half of its course. On the eastern section, between 
Livingston and St. Paul, the train traverses monotonous 
prairies, suggestive of the ocean, but less exhilarating, 
on account of the dust, and less uncertain and exciting, 
and with only a few prairie dogs, herds of cattle, grain- 
fields, and ugly little villages to vary the view from the 
car windows. But on its western section there is the 
magnificent scenery of the Cascade Division, with Mt. 
Tacoma, or, for those starting east from Portland, the 
romantic Columbia River route. As both of these have 
been described at length in preceding chapters, we can 
here pass at once to what is the climax of the Northern 
Pacific route — the Yellowstone Park, although refer- 
ence must be made in passing to the rare beauty of 
Lake Pend D'Oreille, the shores of which the train 
skirts for hours. At Livingston the tourist leaves his 
comfortable Pullman and takes the branch road, which 

279 



280 THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 

in a few hours lands him at Cinnabar, where stages have 
to be taken, as no railway is allowed within the limits 
of the Yellowstone Park. 

This little branch railroad reminded me of some of 
the so-called " passenger trains " in Southern Europe. 
For slowness it would certainly get the first prize at 
a national exhibition of time-tables. " Gentlemen," I 
once heard a conductor exclaim, as he entered the wait- 
ing-room of a railway station in Southern Germany, — 
" Meine Herren, hurry up with your beer ; it is time to 
start." But local color varies. On the Yellowstone 
Road the train was stopped for ten minutes in one place 
to leave a box of merchandise in the middle of a field, 
and to dispose of a bucketful of buttermilk which a nut- 
brown maiden had brought there for the trainmen and 
passengers ; and shortly afterwards the train was again 
stopped, apparently because the engineer had espied a 
couple of prairie-chickens on the hillside. He pursued 
them with his revolver, bagged one of them, and after 
that the train stubbornly proceeded to its destination, 
notwithstanding the polite request of one of the passen- 
gers to the conductor to stop until he had caught a 
string of trout in the adjacent Yellowstone River. A 
week later, when I returned over the same road, the 
train stopped for a quarter of an hour at one place 
while the conductor, engineer, and brakeman amused 
themselves with a game of base-ball. 

The gateway through which the train enters the fer- 
tile Paradise Valley and the National Park is bounded 
east and west b}" lofty mountains, on which, however, 
only a few specks of snow remained in the first week of 
August. Indeed, throuo-hout the Park I saw much less 
snow than the guide-book had led me to expect; but 



THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 281 

for this an uncommonly warm summer may have been 
responsible. Yet even without snowy summits the Yel- 
lowstone mountains are picturesque, and must appear 
sublime to those who have never been in Switzerland. 
In ruggedness and grotesqueness of outline they are 
unrivalled, and the colors are often unique, the rocks 
being sometimes so white that they present the appear- 
ance of slightly discolored snow, such as is seen in the 
lower portions of glaciers ; and this partly atones for 
the absence of real snow. 

After a dusty stage ride, lasting several hours, and 
very much uphill, the passengers are landed at the 
Mammoth Springs Hotel, where a fair supper and good 
beds await them. Although this hotel is conveniently 
located near the foot of the remarkable many-storied, 
snow-white terrace-mound, built by the calcareous de- 
posits of the hot springs, and adorned with the most 
brilliant colors, its site is nevertheless badly chosen ; 
for there is no view from either the front or back win- 
dows, or from the piazza ; whereas, if the building had 
been erected only a few hundred yards to the front, 
visitors might have enjoyed an extensive and delightful 
mountain view on all sides. This error is possibly 
responsible, to a large extent, for the fact that fewer 
visitors than had been expected make this large hotel 
their home for a week or two. With the exception of 
that at the Upper Geyser Basin, all the Yellowstone 
Park hotels are placed in like manner, though in each 
case a picturesque situation might have been found 
within a short distance. Perhaps the builders calcu- 
lated that visitors, after their wearisome stage ride of 
forty or fifty miles and a subsequent brief inspection of 
the geysers, would hardly look upon the hotels as any- 



282 THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 

thing else than a place for provitling them with meals 
and beds. 

Ha\ang been apprised of the disadvantages to which 
those who take the regular round trip by stage in five 
days are subjected, I concluded to see the Park in a 
more leisurely manner, and hired a saddle-horse for a 
week at the rate of two dollars and a half a day, to 
which one dollar and a half a day was added for taking 
care of the horse at the several stations ; thus making 
the expense about the same as it would have been if I 
had taken the regular forty-dollar coupon ticket, which 
includes fare and hotels for five days. They seem 
to have great faith in human nature in Wyoming ; for I 
was allowed to take away my horse without leaving a 
deposit, and even without being asked my name ! On 
entering the Park, an officer rode up and requested 
me to register, explaining that all persons entering pri- 
vately were asked to leave their names, and state how 
long they intended to stay, as a precautionary measure 
against violations of the laws relating to hunting and 
forest fires. These regulations, with others, are printed 
on linen and conspicuously posted along the road every 
few miles, so that no one can plead ignorance of the law. 
Scattered throughout the Park are also hundreds of 
signs reading " No Huxtixg," " Extinguish your 
Fires," with others indicating good places for camps. 
In the Geyser Basins the princij^al sj^rings and geysers 
are also marked by sign-boards, though not so liberally 
as might be desired. There should be more of them 
near the road to indicate the most remarkable spots. 
At present the " paint-pots " and the Gibbon and 
Tower falls are very apt to be missed by tourists. Some 
of the sign-board" of the Geyser Basins need renovating. 



I 



THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 283 

At Norris one of these attracted my attention ; and 
after getting my eyes within six inches to decipher the 
obscure inscription, I read the word " Dangerous ! " 
These danger signals ought to be much more frequent. 
The very day when I was at Norris, a lady broke 
through the crust near one of the springs and was badly 
injured. 

Norris Geyser Basin is directly south of Mammoth 
Hot Springs, and is the place where the tourist, if 
lucky, gets his first view of a geyser. If the reader has 
never looked at a map of the National Park, he may get 
an approximate idea of its topography by bearing in 
mind that the principal curiosities are so placed as to 
form a parallelogram. The road first leads south from 
Mammoth Springs to the four geyser basins, — Norris, 
Lower, Midway, and Upper ; then east to the Lake ; 
then north to the Falls and Grand Caiion, and over 
Mt. Washburn, to Yancey's ; and thence back west to 
the Mammoth Springs. The patrons of the stage line, 
however, miss the Lake and Mt. Washburn, and are 
obliged to return by the same road a great part of the 
way. This must be very fatiguing, as the road between 
Mammoth Springs and Norris is most dreary and unin- 
teresting, being generally lined on both sides by melan- 
choly wastes of blackened tree corpses — a veritable 
forest cemetery. Now that fires are carefully guarded 
against, a vigorous undergrowth of young trees is per- 
ceptible, which in time will obliterate these and the 
many similar stretches of charred timber. 

The hotel at Norris was destroyed by fire about the 
middle of July, 1887, and I arrived just in time to be 
the first occupant of a room in the new hotel. In the 
ruins of the old hotel were still to be found heaps 



284 THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 

of roast potatoes, hams, and other meats, aud groups 
of molten beer and wine bottles twisted into peculiar 
shapes. Beer and Avine, by the way, may be had at all 
these hotels, although no bars are allowed within the 
limits of the Park. The water throughout this part 
of the Park is strongly flavored with sulphur and other 
mineral ingredients, and is apt to disagree with some 
people. After supper I went up the road for a mile 
to see the Geyser Basin. The distinguishing charac- 
teristic of the Norris Basin is the many steam-holes, 
which send out uninterrupted columns of steam, with a 
deafening roar. I have read of canary-birds who were 
silenced forever after hearing a mocking-bird imitate 
and surpass their song. I wish all locomotive engineers 
could be sent to the Norris Basin ; perhaps that would 
make them stop competing as to which of them can 
make night most hideous with steam-whistles. Besides 
these steam-holes there are simple hot springs, sizzling 
"frying-pans," mud geysers, and "paint pots," in which 
paste of various colors is boiling and blubbering. A 
bench has been placed beside one geyser which every 
seven minutes sends up a mass of liquid mud, splashing 
and spluttering, and darting out arms in every direc- 
tion, like a hideous polyp, until the frenzy has reached 
its climax and forced some of the mud over the border ; 
whereupon the agitation subsides as gradually as it 
came on, and the liquid mass disappears down a fathom- 
less hole, where it compresses the steam until it has 
gained sufficient volume to drive the nasty intruder 
once more out of its hole. 

"While I was watching this ludicrous spectacle, some 
of the workmen who were building the new hotel passed 
by and invited me to follow them and see the " Mon- 



THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 285 

arch " geyser spout. We occupied a place on the hill- 
side where there was no danger that the wind would 
drive the steam and hot water into our faces, and 
waited. The liquid eruption was due at eight, but the 
Monarch long refused to give us an audience. The 
workmen, meanwhile, discussed the news of the day, — 
the accident to the lady, already referred to, the moral 
character of the new dish-washer, and the death of a 
popular saloon-keeper, "a splendid fellow, who never 
refused a man a drink whether he had money or not." 
The Monarch awaited this opportunity to make the 
transition from the ridiculous to the sublime, and, pre- 
cisely at nine o'clock, with hardly any warning, he shot 
up a hot stream into the air a hundred feet or more, and 
kept it there for several minutes, the moon furnishing 
just enough light to see the stream of water amid the 
steam. Apres nous le deluge appeared to be his motto ; 
for we found it difficult to reach the road again because 
of the inundation he created during his brief activity. 
One of the workmen told me he waited for the erup- 
tion every evening, and that he had discovered some 
springs not known previously, including one sourer 
than a lemon (probably sulphuric acid). The number 
of hot springs in the Park seems, indeed, to be count- 
less. Every day the tourist comes across them repeat- 
edly, often most unexpectedly, and it seems probable 
that some of the greatest wonders of the Park remain 
to be discovered on the forest-clad hill-sides. 

Among the most curious of the springs are the groups 
of little ones, with openings no larger than peas, lining 
the banks of the brooks and roadside, and so hot that 
one has to exercise caution in riding across them. 

I should have stated that perhaps the prettiest sight 



286 THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 

on the road from Mammoth Springs to Norris is the 
frequent patclies of dense grass, ordinarily of a pale 
yellowish green color, but if seen from above, facing 
the sun, of the richest yellow, suggestive of lakes of 
liquid gold. More beautiful still are the golden rivu- 
lets which form the outlets of some of the hot springs 
in the Lower and Upper Geyser Basins. As the "• Foun- 
tain," the principal geyser of the Lower Basin, was at 
rest when I saw it, I devoted most of my time to admir- 
ing these streamlets with their golden beds. All the 
gradations in color, from red through blood-orange, and 
orange to pale yellov/, are here to be seen, the color 
fading out gradually with the distance from the spring. 
Quite as beautiful as the colors themselves are the 
exquisite waving golden lines and honey-comb figures 
which adorn the bottom of these rills, the reflections of 
the wavelets and ripplets on the surface of the water. 
In some places these dainty figures are rejDlaced by rows 
of silky yellow fibres gently undulating with the move- 
ment of the water. The bottom of these rills is not 
hard, but consists of a soft pulpy mass, in some places 
several inches deep. This is fortunate ; for otherwise 
some of those irrepressible idiots who write their names 
even on the bottoms of the white basins into which the 
water flows from the geyser craters would not hesitate 
to mar also the beauty of these fairy brooks. 

The hero of Midway Geyser Basin is the " Excelsior," 
which, however, has been quiescent for several years. 
It forms an immense pool, which, with some others and 
their overflow, converts the Basin into a place of most 
dismal, forbidding aspect. It is close by the Firehole 
River, which is lined by hot springs, one of which has 
the aspect of a pigmy water-fall, the spray being repre- 



THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PAEK. 287 

sented by the steam. When one considers the number 
of these mineral springs, and the fact that the Excelsior 
has been known to vomit sufficient hot water to convert 
the Firehole River, a hundred yards wide, into "a 
foaming torrent of steaming hot water," one wonders 
no longer that this river, like several others in the 
Park, notwithstanding that its water is usually cool, 
rapid, and clear as a crystal, is destitute of fish. Were 
it not for this occasional excess of hot mineral water, 
there would be scores of places where a tourist might 
go through the unique performance of catching a trout, 
and boiling it in an adjacent spring, without moving 
from his place. As it is, those who wish to try this 
curious experiment have to do so at the Gardiner River 
or the Yellowstone Lake. 

Few of the unfortunate tourists who are hurried 
through the Park on the Wakefield stages have an 
opportunity to see a geyser in activity till they arrive 
at the Upper Geyser Basin. Here more than a dozen 
geysers of the first magnitude are congregated; and 
although some are very irregular, and others only play 
at long intervals, there are several which every one 
who remains a few hours can see. A blackboard in the 
hotel gives a list of the geysers and their intervals of 
performance, and the hotel is so placed as to command 
a view of almost the whole basin, so that, whenever one 
of the irregular geysers starts up, the guests may be at 
once informed, and hasten to the scene. Fortunately, 
one of the finest geysers in the basin is " Old Faithful," 
only a hundred yards from the hotel, and so-called 
because it spouts once in sixty-five minutes, almost 
with the regularity of a clock. The " Grand," " Castle," 
" Beehive," and " Splendid " geysers are also certain 



288 THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 

to play for the benefit of those who spend a day at 
the Upper Basin. But the grandest of them all, the 
" Giant," wakes up only once in a fortnight; and unfor- 
tunately I arrived just eight hours too late to see it. 
But there was no room for disappointment, as the other 
geysers afforded more than enough excitement and won- 
der for a day. 

Even if these geysers were extinct, it would be worth 
a visit to this Basin to see the fanciful, lofty craters 
built up by the calcareous deposits of the hot springs. 
No two geysers appear to be quite alike in their style 
of playing. Some have more steam mixed with their 
water than others ; some shoot up a constant stream ; 
others, an intermittent one, somewhat like the various 
forms of rockets. The stream of the Castle looks 
almost like a water-fall flowing uj^wards and vanishing 
in mid air; and the Splendid afforded the spectacle 
of two lovely rainbows. 

Besides these exciting geysers, which represent the 
sublime, the Upper Geyser Basin has some of the love- 
liest pools or springs in the Park, as representatives of 
pure, placid beauty. Chief among these are the " Morn- 
ing Glory " and the " Gem," — pools of fathomless 
depth filled with diamond of the purest water, lined 
inside with the richest, deepest colors, and with a " hor- 
rid " black hole at the bottom, suggesting the entrance 
to the nether regions. Into one of these pools a stupid 
boy once threw a stick, and his poor dog jumped in 
after it and was boiled to pulp in a few minutes. In 
another was found the bare skeleton of an elk, possibly 
driven into it by pursuing wolves, — a fine subject for 
a ballad. 

From the Upper Basin I might have gone straight to 



THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PAEK. 289 

the Lake ; but as the road is a mere trail on which a 
horse cannot run, and the distance is therefore too great 
to cover in one day, I returned to the Lower Basin, 
whence it Avas only about thirty-five miles to the hotel 
camp at the Lake. With many tourists it seems to be 
a moot point whether it is worth while to visit the 
Lake; and as few used to go there, the accommodations 
until recently were of a most primitive kind. There 
were two men at the camp, and three tents — one for 
cooking, one for eating, and one to sleep in. An 
Englishman and his wife were the only guests besides 
myself. The lady naturally desired the sleeping-tent to 
bo made up into two separate rooms, and the "landlord" 
finally submitted to the extra trouble this involved, 
though afterwards he was overheard commenting to his 
assistant on " them fussy English." When the English 
lady got up in the morning to wash, she found the towel 
had already been used by her husband and myself, so 
she asked for another. The assistant replied he had 
already put out a fresh towel for that date, but after 
a moment's hesitation he decided to make an exception 
in her favor, and produced a second. 

For the season of 1890, however, a new hotel was 
opened, and boats placed on the Lake ; and the tourist 
who omit^ it makes a great mistake. Not only does it 
rank among the curiosities of the world, being the only 
lake of its size at so great an altitude (7788 feet above 
the sea; or, as the guide-book graphically puts it, if 
Mt. Washington could be sunk in it with its base at 
sea-level, "its apex would be nearly half a mile below 
the surface of the lake ") ; but its intrinsic beauty would 
insure it renown at any altitude. Snow there was none 
on the surrounding mountains when I saw them ; but, 



290 THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 

like all mountains, they gain immensely in picturesque- 
ness and apparent loftiness by being seen across a sheet 
of water. And a beautiful sheet of water the Lake is, 
aside from its surroundings; but it is treacherous, and 
there is a violent thunder or wind storm almost every 
morning at eleven. About six o'clock in the morning 
I distinctly heard the mysterious rushing sounds in the 
air referred to in the guide-book as unexplained. I 
suppose they are due to the sound of the waters dash- 
ing against the beach and borne on by the wind, grad- 
ually accumulating loudness. Or the sounds may be 
due to the movements of the capricious and fitful wind 
among the tree-tops. I repeatedly heard a gust of wind 
approaching in that way with a magnificent crescendo 
and climax which a modern orchestra could hardly 
equal. 

Everybody knows that the Yellowstone Lake is as 
brimful of trout as the Columbia River is of salmon. 
But a general notion prevails — even among those who 
dwell in the Park — that they are all unfit to eat, being 
infested by worms. This is an error. About half the 
trout are as sound as any other fish, and can be readily 
distinguished from the diseased ones. In the middle of 
the Lake it is said that all are sound, — a statement^ for 
the truth of which I cannot vouch. Our Englishman 
caught a dozen in the river just after it leaves the Lake. 
The cook assorted them, threw away the bad ones, and 
fried the others, which proved to be as good fish as I 
ever ate. The next day, on the way to the Falls, I 
stopped for a short time to catch a few of the numerous 
two-pounders that I saw swimming near the shore. 
Further down the Yellowstone the trout are smaller 
and less abundant than near the Lake, so that there is 



THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 291 

some sport in catching them ; but where I stopped it 
was very much like fishing in a reservoir filled with 
hungry hatched fish. All I had to do was to select my 
fish, place the bait before his nose, and pull him in. I 
took along half-a-dozen which I knew to be sound, but 
at the Falls hotel I was informed that their French 
cook refused to touch the Lake trout. As the hotel 
itself furnished trout for supper caught below the Falls, 
where they are admitted to be sound, I did not argue 
the point with the cook, who was busy providing for 
an excursion party of fifty. 

If the Yellowstone region contained nothing but the 
two falls at this place, and the Grand Caiion, it would 
have been worth while to reserve it as a National Park 
for all time. The two falls, though only half a mile 
apart, are utterly different in character; as the smaller, 
upper one plunges into a quiet, small basin in a se- 
cluded idyllic retreat, while the lower plunges three 
hundred and fifty feet down an abyss which is formed 
by the stupendous walls of the Grand Canon, of which 
several miles lie before the eyes of the dazed spectator. 
The best place to enjoy the grandeur of the Falls and 
the Canon is not at Lookout Point, as is generally 
believed, but at the edge of the Falls. Seen from a 
distance above, these Falls present a unique sight. The 
water flows on like any other rapid current until sud- 
denly it appears to vanish in the air. On approaching 
the edge of the Falls, this illusion resolves itself into a 
scene which Niagara can hardly equal. As the water 
plunges into the pool below, it is dissolved into clouds 
of vapor that put to shame the steam columns of the 
biggest geysers. The breakers which wildl}^ dash against 
the sides of the pool indicate the turbulence of the 



292 THROUGH YELI.OWSTONE PARK. 

water beneath this spray and foam. Some of the spray 
is carried by the wind to the abrupt walls of the Canon, 
where it nourishes mosses and lichens, which add one 
more color to the numerous tints that adorn these 
rocks. These tints bewilder by their variety and rich- 
ness. The same strong mineral waters that have painted 
such exquisite brook-bottoms in the Geyser Basins here 
undertook a kind of fresco-painting on a scale of the 
most sublime grandeur. 

Near the summits of some of the rocks may be seen 
some curious caves. Other rocks terminate in turrets 
and pinnacles suggesting mediseval architecture ; and 
some of the rocky walls are adorned with a mosaic of 
brown, red, yellow, and white, as elaborate as the floor 
of St. Mark's in Venice. Some of the turrets, when 
you climb up to them, appear so woefull}^ weather- 
beaten that it looks as if you could kick them over ; but 
you cannot. The torrent, at a dizzy depth below, in which 
the green water struggles wildly for supremacy Avith 
the white foam, enlivens the scene ; and in one place a 
turn of the river-bed, near a streak of painted rock, 
gives the impression of two water-falls side by side, one 
green, the other red; one in motion, the other frozen. 

From the Grand Canon the coupon tourists return to 
the Mammoth Springs and Livingston, while those who 
travel independently can enjoy the ride over jNIt. Wash- 
burn, with its extended views of the Rocky Mountains, 
its fertile sides fairly crammed with flowers of the 
richest colors and strangest varieties, and its solitary 
trail through the depths of a primeval forest, frequently 
blocked by fallen trees, on which one may not meet a 
human being in eight hours, nor hear any sound but 
the melancholy moan of a poor tree against wliich a 




i\\LL8 UF TIIK VKl.l.oWSTdNE. 



THROUGH YELLOWSTONE PARK. 293 

dead trunk has fallen, and is wounding it with every 
movement of the wind. The dismal delight of this 
ride is as indescribable as the exciting sport of trouting 
that may be enjoyed at Yancey's, whence it is but a 
short distance back to our starting-point, the Mammoth 
Springs Hotel. 

After spending a week in the National Park on 
horseback, I came to the conclusion that what the Park 
chiefly needs now is a railroad, — not a steam railway, 
which would frighten the game and set fire to the 
forests, but an electric railroad. Great as are the won- 
ders of the Yellowstone Park, the intervening distances 
are so great and the scenery often so commonplace, 
that nothing would be lost, and very much gained, by 
having an electric road. Dust and fatigue could be 
thus avoided, and more time devoted to the wonders of 
the Park in three days than at present in a week. 



XVIII. 
THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO. 

FROM LOS ANGELES TO PEACH SPRING DESERT WIND 

AN ARIZONA VILLAGE INDIANS DESCENSUS AVERNO 

EXTRAORDINARY MOUNTAIN ARCHITECTURE SILENCE 

AND DESOLATION A BEWITCHED CREEK UP THE DIA- 
MOND CANON THE GRAND CANON AND THE RIVER 

NEW MEXICO AND KANSAS. 

It is unfortunate for travellers that the masterpieces 
of American scenery are not all grouped along one or 
two of the transcontinental railways. As it is, each 
line has its own lions, and to see them all one has to 
cross the continent more than once. Some of the prin- 
cipal features of the Canadian Pacific, Northern Pacific, 
Union Pacific, and Southern Pacific railways have been 
commented upon in preceding pages, and it remains to 
notice the lion of the Atlantic and Pacific or Santa F^ 
route, which is nothing less than the Grand Canon of the 
Colorado River, winch Captain Dutton considers " the 
sublimest thing on earth." It is one of the sublimest 
things on earth, beyond a doubt ; yet how many readers 
of this book, all of whom are of course highly educated 
persons, are able to tell, without consulting their geog- 
raphy, where the Grand Canon of the Colorado is ? In 
Colorado, of course, nine out of ten will say. But Col- 
orado has only the honor of giving birth to the smaller 
294 



THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLOEADO. 295 

rivers which unite to form the mighty Colorado, and 
which are fed by the snow of the Rocky Mountains. 
As Major Powell graphically puts it : " When the sum- 
mer sun comes, this snow melts, and tumbles down 
the mountain sides in millions of cascades. Ten mil- 
lion cascade brooks unite to form ten thousand torrent 
creeks ; ten thousand torrent creeks unite to form a hun- 
dred rivers beset with cataracts ; a hundred roaring riv- 
ers unite to form the Colorado, Avhich rolls, a mad, 
turbid stream, into the Gulf of California," about two 
thousand miles from its sources. Only about six hun- 
dred miles of the loAver part of the river are navigable, 
on account of the earth fissures, or canons, through which 
it has eaten its way for five hundred miles. Some of 
these caiions are in Utah, but the two largest and most 
famous — the Marble and the Grand — are in Arizona. 
The longest of the caiions is two hundred and seven- 
teen and one-half miles long, and is separated from 
another one of sixty-five and one-half miles only by a 
narrow valley. 

Lieutenant Ives says of the Grand Canon region : 
" The extent and magnitude of the system of canons in 
that direction is astounding. The plateau is cut into 
shreds by these gigantic chasms, and resembles a vast 
ruin. Belts of country, miles in width, have been swept 
away, leaving only isolated mountains standing in the 
gap ; fissures, so profound that the naked eye cannot 
penetrate their depths, are separated by walls whose 
thickness one can almost span, and slender spires that 
seem tottering upon their base shoot up a thousand feet 
from vaults below." Or, as Major Powell puts it, the 
tributary streams, like the Colorado, " have cut gorges 
of their own : and they all have wet-weather affluents, 
that run in deep canons. It is a canon land." 



296 THE GEAND CANON OF THE COLORADO. 

Previous to Major Powell's bold expedition down this 
subterranean river, about twenty years ago, it was prac- 
tically a terra (or rather aqua) incognita. For a party 
of scientific men and artists to venture in a few frail 
boats down this sun-forsaken river, shut in for over five 
hundred miles by precipitous walls rising sometimes 
over a mile and a half on both sides, not knowing how 
soon they would be dashed to pieces on the rocks below 
a water-fall, or sucked into a suffocating tunnel, or 
starved to death by losing their provisions, was surely 
one of the most heroic deeds on record, comparable 
to Columbus's expedition on the unknown, illimitable 
ocean in search of a new world. It was a Jules Verne 
novel realized ; and I know of no romance more fasci- 
nating in its narrative and more poetic in its descriptions 
of scenery, than Major Powell's account of this expedi- 
tion, which is unfortunately buried amidst the govern- 
ment reports of geological surveys. At least four 
huncbed rapids, eddies, whirlpools, falls, and cascades 
were encountered, and many were the hair-breadth 
escapes. They were chilled at night, and in the day- 
time the thermometer sometimes rose to 115°, in this 
river dungeon, amidst a forest-like gloom ; but still they 
had to go on, for return Avas impossible, as they knew 
very well before they started. Sometimes the water 
hurried along their boats with the speed of railroad 
trains. The rocks on both sides would roll the water 
into the centre in great waves, and the boats would go 
leaping and bounding over these " like black-tail deer 
jumping the logs " Avhich strew the forests. Indians 
have come to grief here. In the onomatopoetic descrip- 
tion given b}^ one of them, " The rocks h-e-a-p high ; the 
water go h-oo-woogh, h-oo-woogh ; water-pony [boat] 
h-e-a-p buck ; water catch 'em ; no see." 




TUK (iKANl) t'ANt 



THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO. 297 

I cannot resist the temptation to quote two more brief 
passages from Major Powell's pages, describing portions 
of the Marble and Grand Caiions. " The walls of the 
Canon, twenty-five hundred feet high, are of marble, of 
many beautiful colors, and often polished below by the 
waves, or far up the sides, where showers have washed 
the sands over the cliffs. At one place I have a walk, 
for more than a mile, on a marble pavement, all polished 
and fretted with strange devices and embossed in a 
thousand fantastic patterns. Through a cleft in the wall 
the sun shines on this pavement, which gleams in irides- 
cent beauty." " In other regions the rocks, when not 
covered with soil, or more vigorous vegetation, are at 
least lichened, or stained, and the rocks themselves are 
of sombre hue, but in this region they are naked, and 
many of them brightly colored, as if painted by artist- 
gods ; not stained and daubed with inharmonious hues, 
but beautiful as flowers and gorgeous as the clouds. 
Such are the walls of the Grand Canon of the Col- 
orado where it divides the twin plateaus." 

No one can read even these few extracts without 
feeling convinced of the truth of Captain Button's 
remark that the Colorado Cailon is " a great innovation 
in modern ideas of scenery, and in our conception of the 
grandeur, beauty, and power of nature " ; and without 
wishing to see a portion at least of this Canon. The 
Atlantic and Pacific Railroad is at present the only one 
which brings tourists into its vicinity ; and the station 
to get off at is Peach Spring, about eighteen hours' ride 
from Los Angeles, and situated twenty-three miles south 
of the Grand Canon. The region between Los Angeles 
and Peach Spring presents many attractive features. 
First comes the city of Pasadena, with its large hotel, 



298 THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO. 

charmingly situated near the foot of the mountains, the 
sides of which present a peculiar wavy appearance. In 
some places they are curiously furrowed and crevassed, 
as if the very mountains had split themselves up into 
town lots during " boom " times. The surface is bare 
in the autumn except for a few trees near the rocky 
summits ; but in spring the lower slopes are covered by 
millions of fragrant flowers, springing as by magic from 
the dust. Other picturesquely situated villages follow, 
some of which are destined no doubt to become flourish- 
ing towns. At present they are a curious compound of 
unfinished buildings, tents, and Mexican mud or adobe 
houses. 

As the train proceeds in a northeastern direction, 
towards Barstow, the region of alternative ocean and 
mountain breezes is gradually left beliind, and an arid 
desert of cactus, sand, and rocks is traversed. The sun's 
rays, no longer tempered by the ocean and mountain 
refrigerators, have it all their own way, and the wind is 
powerless in their clutches. For although a strong 
breeze is blowing, it feels like a blast from a hot furnace, 
so that one hesitates whether to keep the car windows 
open and desiccate, or closed and suffocate. Peach 
Spring I found to be an Arizona village consisting of 
five saloons, six dwelling-houses, a " stage " office, and 
an Indian camp in the background. It is so called, ap- 
parently, because no peach grows within a hundred miles, 
and because the only spring in the neighborhood is four 
miles from the depot, whence the water is pumped to 
the station with an encrine fed with coal that is brouofht 
there from the station. Mr. Farlee, the man who has 
this coal contract, also undertakes to convey tourists to 
the Grand Canon. He is an intelligent man, whose en- 



THE GRAND CANON OP THE COLORADO. 299 

terprise has built a fair road, twenty-three miles in length, 
generally along or in a dry river-bed, which, after every 
freshet, calls for extra labor in clearing away the rocks 
wildly strewn about by the strong current. As there is 
no possibility of missing this road, I secured a pony of 
Mr. Farlee, and started alone for the Caiion ; and on the 
whole way I saw no soul except an Indian, who rather 
suspiciously went behind a tree near the road as I ap- 
proached. Being Aveaponless, I met any possible scalp- 
hunting propensities on his part by a cordial " Good 
morning," which he as cordially echoed. The Indians 
of this neighborhood are lazy, and, with few exceptions, 
refuse to do any work even for good pay. Their filthi- 
ness, also, is great ; and no wonder, considering that the 
nearest spring is four miles away and monopolized by 
the railroad company. 

A mile or two beyond this spring is another one, 
where the horse may be watered. During the remain- 
ing eighteen miles there is only one spring, and if the 
traveller misses that, he has to suffer agonies of thirst, 
unless he has wisely provided himself with a flask of tea 
or lemonade. The brisk, hot breeze which sometimes 
blows only aids the physiological desiccating process, 
and the result is a temporary dipsomania, in the frenzy 
of which one would gladly give a gold coin for a glass 
of lemonade. Nothing but forbidding cactus and a few 
similar tough and spiny plants can resist this heat ; hence 
the whole region seems barren, and the few animals one 
may chance to see — a hawk, butterfly, rabbit, or cata- 
mount — but add to the desolation of the scene. There 
is not a sound in the air, and the silence is as absolute 
as on an Alpine snow-field, or in mid-ocean during a 
calm. The slightest sound made in urging on the 



300 THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO. 

weary horse is echoed by the hill-sides though they are 
several miles away. 

The mountain scenery is unique and grand, and 
becomes more so the nearer we approach the Grand 
Canon. For the road is a regular descensus Averno, 
taking us deeper and deeper down between the moun- 
tain walls ; and wlien Ave reach the end of it we are 
almost a mile nearer the sea-level than we were at 
Peach Spring. 

At a spot about a mile from the river Mr. Farlee 
intends to erect a large hotel. Sandstone, granite, and 
other fine building-material lie about in j)rofusion, and 
only need to be hewn and piled up architecturally. At 
present there is nothing but a very primitive hut, with 
accommodations for about a dozen persons. The inn is 
run by one man, whose special duty it also is to keep his 
end of the road in order ; and a lonely life he must lead 
in this solitary hut, twenty miles from any other human 
habitation. When there are no guests to take care of, 
he fills his canteen with water and starts up the valley, 
to roll the stones out of the road. In the evening he 
wraps himself in his blanket and goes to sleep, with the 
starry firmament for a roof, regardless of possible dis- 
agreeable neighbors, such as centipedes or rattlesnakes. 
He says he sleeps in the open air two-thirds of the time, 
and has not been ill for thirty-five years. Yet the heat 
in this part of the Canon (which is so deep that stars are 
often visible in the daytime, and at night I saw a million 
more stars than ever before) must be a terrible strain on 
his system, as it sometimes rises to 120 ° in the shade, 
with not a breath of air. 

I shall never forgive this man, or his employer, for 
having nothing sour in the house except a spoonful of 



THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLOEADO. 301 

very bad vinegar — no pickles, lemons, or even a grain 
of lemon sugar, which, by the way, every traveller in 
hot regions should always carry with him. So I had to 
content myself, on arrival, with tea and water. The 
water is good, although superstitious people might hesi- 
tate to drink it, as it comes from a brook — Diamond 
Creek — which seems to be bewitched. Just in front of 
the hotel a portion of this creek, about half a mile in 
length, disappears every day towards noon, although 
above and below this place it flows on merrily and abun- 
dantly. About ten o'clock at night the water suddenly 
returns to the deserted portion of its bed. Mr. Farlee 
has repeatedly dug down many feet to find the subterra- 
nean brook-bed, but in vain. It almost seems as if the 
water, after leaving the cool and deep Diamond Canon, 
were afraid of being absorbed by the superheated air in 
the open space in which the hotel is situated, and there- 
fore concealed itself underground. 

I still felt so desiccated, after my four cups of tea and 
about ten glasses of lukewarm water, that I made the 
man in charge of the hotel promise to wake me at 10 
P.M., as soon as the mysterious creek commenced to run 
again. He did so, depositing a bucket of the water at 
my bed, and it was delightfully cool and refreshing. A 
breeze had sprung up, and the night air was tolerably 
cool ; but the man slept out of doors all the same. 

Possibly there may be a poetic Indian legend account- 
inaf in some such manner for the fact that even the 
broad Colorado River has in this region dug its way 
into the bowels of the earth so deeply that it now runs 
more than a mile below the summit of its precipitous 
banks. Yet, after all, there lies more poetry and sub- 
limity in the scientific account of the manner in which 



302 THE GKAND CANON OF THE COLOEADO. 

the soft water has, by infinitesimal degrees, worn its 
channel through these hard rocks, and even through the 
lava, with which ]\Iajor Powell thinks tliis river-bed has 
been filled more than once : "• What a conflict of water 
and fire there must have been here ! Just imagine a 
river of molten rock running down into a river of melted 
snow. What a seething and boiling of the waters ; 
what clouds of steam rolled into the heavens ! " But it 
must be frankly admitted that those who visit the 
Grand Canon, witli anticipations at fever heat from 
reading Powell's exciting and poetic description of his 
adventurous tri^) down the Colorado, will be somewhat 
disappointed at first sight of this river. It is about a 
mile from Farlee's inn, and is reached by following Dia- 
mond Creek, which empties into it. On comparing the 
mud color of the Colorado with the crystalline purity of 
this creek, one realizes to what the latter might owe its 
name. ^ Rapid the Colorado is, and broad, and its walls 
do rise to the height of a mile, but they slope and 
recede towards the background, and in vain does the 
tourist look for the " granite prison walls " rising 
abruptly from the edge of the water, and almost meet- 
ing above so as to shut out the daylight, their sides 
adorned with floating clouds and with the water-falls 
and cascades of tributary streams. 

Yet in truth it is foolish to look for all these things 
here — to expect that all the wonders of Mr. Powell's 
long and perilous tour should be concentrated in one 
place for the convenience of tourists. The fact is, that 
the most sublime portions of the Canon are at present 
inaccessible except to those who are willing to undergo the 

1 It is said, however, that the creek owes its name to the fact that 
diamonds were once "planted" here, to deceive investors. 



THE GRAND CANOX OP THE COLORADO. 303 

same clangers and hardships as Major PowelL One can 
readily believe the legends of parched travellers wander- 
ing along the brink of this Canon for days, and " perishing 
with thirst at last, in sight of the river wliicli was roar- 
ing its mockery into dying ears." Powell himself once 
spent four days wandering along the river, trying to get 
down. Diamond Creek seems to afford the only en- 
trance to the Grand Canon. The Atlantic and Pacific 
Railroad entertains a project of building an eighty-mile 
branch road from Flagstaff to the Caiion. Such a road 
would offer jnnnj attractions, as it would pass by some 
of the ancient cliff dwellings and the snow-capped San 
Francisco Mountains. It would, however, arrive at the 
top instead of at the bottom of the Caiion, which would 
thus lose some of its cathedral grandeur. Possibly the 
tourists might be let down to the river by means of a 
miner's shaft, in which case a ride of a few miles down 
the river on a boat (or " water-pony," as the Indians call 
it) should be added to the programme. But this Avould 
be at the Marble Canon. For the Grand Caiion, Peach 
Spring will probably remain the stopping station ; and 
for their partial disappointment in the Grand Caiion 
itself, tourists will be amply repaid by a visit to the Dia- 
mond Canon, which is reached by going up Diamond 
Creek, a few miles from Mr. Farlee's inn. Here they 
will find what they longed to see, — perpendicular, awe- 
inspiring walls, not, indeed, a mile, but more than half a 
mile, in height (twenty -seven hundred feet), topped 
with fanciful pinnacles and domes, and producing a 
feeling of gloomy sublimity as refreshing to the soul 
as the coolness of this granite prison is to the body. 

Diamond Caiion and the Grand Caiion may be vis- 
ited on the day of arrival at Farlee's inn. Leaving the 



304 THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO. 

afternoon of the second claj for tlie return to Peach 
Spring, no visitor shouhl fail to ascend Prospect Point, 
which forms one of the banks of the river, in the morn- 
ing. It is an hour's liard climb from the inn, but it 
rej)ays the toil a hundred-fold. From the summit one 
obtains several picturesque glimpses of the yellow Col- 
orado, afar down, where it seems a mere brook ; and of 
course the surrounding mountains do not appear in their 
true size and grandeur until one sees them from this 
elevated point of view. These mountains all have a 
curious family likeness; Their Ijasis is always formed 
by a striated, vertical layer, reddish or l.)rown ; then fol- 
lows a story or layer which slopes like a roof, suggest- 
ing human architectural efforts, but on a scale of infinite 
grandeur ; and above this are several more distinct strata 
towering straight into the skies. It is the constant 
sight of these superb and unique mountains, on the way 
from Peach Spring, that partly prevents tourists from 
being as deeply impressed as they would otherwise be 
at first sight of the Grand Caiion. " They get their 
belly full before they reach the river," as Mr. Farlee for- 
cibly remarked. 

After leaving Peach Spring, east-bound tourists may, 
if they have time, stop over at several places of interest 
which will claim a day each, — cliff dwellings, San Fran- 
cisco Mountains, Pueblo villages, Sante F6, etc. If they 
lack time, the car window still affords many pleasant 
sights which charm, even after the Grand Canon, includ- 
ing the Caiion Diablo, two hundred and twenty-two feet 
deep, which the train bridges in the midst of a plain. 
Beyond Albuquerque the evidence multiplies that water 
is more abundant, and New Mexico has many pictur- 
esque and healthful spots, with wooded hills and green 



THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO. 305 

meadows, wliicli only await the arrival of pioneers to be 
soon converted into populous and flourishing districts. 
Small pine forests make their appearance, and one 
readily understands why they are locally known as 
"parks," so clear are they of all underbrush and rubbish. 
In Kansas, bits of local color j)i'esent themselves in the 
shape of immense herds of cattle, the three guardian 
angels of one of which (alias cowboys) race with the 
train quite successfully for a short distance. But while 
all these incidents and scenes are apt to be soon forgot- 
ten, the Grand Canon remains stereotyped in the mem- 
ory, where fresh copies can always be produced at will. 
" Great as is the fame of the Grand Canon of the 
Colorado, the half remains to be told," as Captain But- 
ton remarks in his " Tertiary History of the Grand 
Canon," the eighth chapter of which, " The Panorama 
from Point Sublime," is one of the most valuable essays 
on natural sesthetics ever written, and should be read by 
all who make the Great American Scenic Tour. 



INDEX. 



Abalone shells, 69. 
Alaska, 231-247. 
Anaheim, 36. 
Astoria, 187. 
Avalon, 69. 

Banff, 267. 
Berkeley, 123. 
Berries, Oregon, 179. 
Big Trees, 102. 

Cable-cars, 108, 111. 

Cactus, 37. 

California, Preface, 1-154. 

Camping, 31. 

Canadian National Park, 268-276. 

Canadian Pacific Railroad, 248-261. 

Carson City, 142. 

Cascade Range, 184. 

Catalina Island, 45, 58-74. 

Cattle-raising, 20. 

Chinese in California, 80, 112-120; 
in Oregon, 166-171, 186. 

Chula Vista, 52. 

Clatsop, 176. 

Climate, in Southern California, 
Preface, 7, 25-31, 34, 49, 60, 78; in 
San Francisco, 123, 127; in Ore- 
gon, 161 ; in Washington, 230. 

Coal, in Washington, 221. 

Columbia River, 182-202, 258, 266. 

Coronado, 49. 

Crater Lake, 156. 



Dalles, the, 201. 
Desert, 3, 80. 
Devil's Head Lake, 271. 
Diamond Creek, 303. 
Donner Lake, 128. 

El Paso, 3. 
Elsiuore Lake, 47. 
Eucalyptus, 9. 

Farming, 19. 

Ferns, 173, 178. 

Fir-trees, 181, 237. 

Fishing, Catalina Island, 71 ; Tahoe 
Lake, 137; Columbia River, sal- 
mon, 186 ; Devil's Head Lake, 272; 
Yellowstone, 290. 

Flowers, in California, 26, 48, 69, 78, 
83, 106; in Oregon, 179. 

Foothills, 21. 

Forest colors, 266 ; fires, 219, 248. 

Frazer River, 235. 

Fruit, Southern California, 10; Ore- 
gon, 160, 180. 

Fullerton, 6. 

Glacier Bay, 246; Glacier House, 

259. 
Goats, wild, 67. 
Grand Canon, Colorado, 295-305; 

Yellowstone, 291. 
Grapes, 12. 



308 



INDEX. 



Hood, Mt., 163, 184, 190, 200, 204-206. 
Humming-birds, 04. 

Ilwaco, 173. 

Indians, Alaskan, 241 ; relics, Cata- 

liua Islands, 69; camp at Sisson's, 

153. 
Irrigation, 22-25. 

Japan Current, 61. 
Japanese and Indians, 243. 
Juneau, 241. 

Klamath Lake, 156. 

Laguna, 47. 

Limes versus Lemons, 54. 

Livingston, 279. 

Los Angeles, 2, 4-14, 16, 18. 

Lumber in Washington, 220. 

Mariposa Grove, 102. 
Mariposa lily, 69. 
Mexican border, 49. 
Mexicans, 79. 
Minnewonka Lake, 271. 
Mojave Desert, 80. 
Mountain forests, 261. 
Mnir Glacier, 245. 
Mustard fields, 55, 58. 

National City, 51. 
Nevada, 140. 
New Orleans, 2. 

Oakland, 123. 

Olympia, 225. 

Olympic mountains, 226. 

Opium dens, 116. 

Orange, 40. 

Oranges, 36-48. 

Oregon, Preface, 85, 155-206. 

Oregon mountains, 163. 

Oregon snow-peaks, 162, 184, 204- 

200, 230. 
Ostrich farm, 11. 



Pacific Coast, mountainous charac- 
ter of, 108. 
Pampas plumes, 13. 
Pasadeua, 279. 
Peach Spring, 298. 
Pelicans, 72. 
Pepper-trees, 9. 
Portland, 102-171, 184. 
Port Townsend, 230. 
Prohibition in California, 44. 
Puget Sound, 217-230. 

Quail, 13, 64. 

Rabbit-hunting, 37. 

Railroads, transcontinental, Preface, 
ix; Southern Pacific, 1; Califor- 
nia Southern, 40 ; California Cen- 
tral, 50; Central Pacific, 127; 
Oregon and California, 149; North- 
ern Pacific, 213, 218, 279; Cana- 
dian Pacific, 248; Atlantic and 
Pacific, 294. 

Rain, 155. 

Rainier, Mt., 210. 

Rattlesnakes, 65. 

Raymond, 81. 

Rivers, 155, 183. 

Riverside, 41. 

Rocky Mountains, 264. 

Rural cities of the future, 31. 

St. Elias, Mt., 233. 
St. Helens, Mt., 207. 
Salem, Oregon, 165. 
Salmon-canneries, 186. 
Scenery, American, 205. 
Selkirk Mouutains, 259. 
Shoalwater Bay, 173. 
Snow-peaks, in Oregon and Wash- 
ington, 203-216. 

Tacoma, 162, 218-223. 
Tacoma, Mt., 20i)-216, 223. 
Tahoe Lake, 129-140. 
Tia Juana, 52. 



INDEX. 



309 



Trees, Big, 102. 
Truckee, 128. 

Vancouver, 249. 
Vegetables in California, 10. 
Victoria, 249. 
Vine disease, 12. 
Virginia City, 143. 

Washington, 207-230. 

Washington snow-peaks, 162, 184, 
204-21G, 230. 

Water-falls, Yosemite, 89, 96, 98; 
Columbia River, 194; Yellow- 
stone, 291. 



Wawona, 82, 102. 
Whitney, Mt., 150. 
Willamette River, 155, 164. 
Willamette Valley, 158. 
Windmills, 7. 
Wine, California, 12. 
Winnipeg, 279. 
Winter bathing in California, 60. 

Yale, 254. 

Yellowstone Lake, 289. 
Yellowstone Park, 279-293. 
Yosemite Valley, 80-107. 



Presswork by Berwick & Smith, Boston. 
Typography by J. S. Gushing & Co., Boston. 



H117 80 % 



5 * 



^c 






^c 



^ 

^ 



a'A 














5^^ ;5 














%. 



■ \ J- •'^%ik' ** A* -'^5®^-- \. J' ''l%ik 



v?\^ 









0° .c:.;^:^ °o 




















\s\!^/3 N. MANCHESTER, 
^- •'' INDIANA 46962 






1^ ... 



;/^ ,c.v /^'^i^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



017 138 062 5 # 



